Catch My Fall
by iNyxxis
Summary: AU after canon events of Season 7 of Buffy and Season 5 of Angel. Centered on Spike and an unknown Slayer. After all he's been through with Buffy, can he ever love another? Introduction arc, Book One.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire slayer and Angel, the characters and universe is the property of Joss Whedon, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

All seasons of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel is canon, with some aspects but not all of the comics appearing as well. This comes about two years after the end of Angel, three years after the end of Buffy. I haven't really written much fanfiction before, and never any Buffyverse previously. This story is at first set tin the fictional town of Haven, a few hours from where Sunnydale was. However, I absolutely love Spike, and I hope I do him some justice. This isn't edited at all, so I apologize, I'm just releasing chapters as I have them, which I'll probably regret later if I want to change something. Thanks for reading, feel free to let me know what you think.

 **Prologue**

Jade stood on the hill, looking over the graveyard. The mist sunk there, clouding the view, barely penetrated by the moon's bright beams. She was cold, hugging herself for some warmth through her denim jacket as her pale blue eyes scoured the scene. Her pale skin still held traces of dust, a light layer of grime. Her brown hair tumbled out of her ponytail in further disarray, but she was otherwise unscathed. She had won this night. She was alive. At least for now. She shivered, perhaps at the thought or at the cold, when she heard the distinct scraping of dirt beneath her. One hand moved to her hip, fingers resting on the hilt of her sheathed machete, but as she turned, she relaxed.

"Fyora." She spoke to the approaching woman, an eyebrow raised in curiosity at the cloaked figure. The woman was even smaller than Jade, standing at barely five feet, a couple of unruly curls sinking out from beneath her hood. The darkness obscured most of her face, except for her small mouth and cleft chin, but she knew her well enough to recognize her visible features. Jade knew her from the orphanage, the slightly strange keeper of the children who lived there. They weren't friends, but business and circumstance had caused them to cross paths from time to time. "Out for a midnight walk?" She continued, interest just cutting into her flat tone.

"Came to see you," Fyora answered, in a husky voice that seemed out of character in a person that was delicately small—despite being the supervisor of the orphanage, Jade knew the woman had been mistaken for an orphan herself from time to time. But size was deceiving, and Jade knew better than to make judgements based on that. There was in truth, something mystical about the other woman, something bewitching and otherworldly. But Jade hadn't pried, or investigated. She was aware enough to recognize it, but that was it. Jade wasn't in any position to judge the supernatural essence of others.

Jade narrowed her eyes slightly. She assumed Fyora was asking her to babysit, as she had before. There wasn't much of a board watching the largely abandoned Orphanage, and Jade had deigned to watch the kids from time to time—with a hefty fee. She wasn't much for children, but damning sympathy and the need for money broke through her resilient skin on occasion. "Another gig?" She spoke finally, deciding to not be too difficult about the whole thing—though she'd raise the price this time. The orphans were a troublesome bunch, who were far from the notion of 'normal', and she wanted her drudgery to be worth it. However, Fyora's earlier requests had usually come during the day, when Jade was working. Within the confines of a liquor store, not out here in the murky atmosphere of an empty graveyard "Came all the way out to the gra—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Fyora's hand shot out beneath her cloak. As fast as her reaction was, Jade only jerked her hand back, but not enough to escape Fyora's strong, wiry fingers enclosing around her wrist. Normally, it wouldn't have stopped Jade. Despite Fyora's strange aura, she was human, and Jade was something more. But she couldn't quite wrench her grasp away, feeling a strange wetness and dampness on her skin from where the other woman was holding her. Jade's eyes shot down, and even through the darkness, she saw the unmistakable color of the viscous fluid, the stickiness of it on her skin. Blood. "Let go," Jade was warning her, but her words died on her lips, as she looked back up to other woman. Her hood had fallen back, uncovering her face, and Jade could see the splatters of blood dripping down her face, her cheekbones. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, and sticky, blood-infused curls sprung around her face. "What the—"

Fyora's head tipped back, her mouth open as she chanted in empty monotone. " _The young we'll chain, the small we'll drain. Drain, drain, drain. In the circle, they will die. Answer, answer their cry."_ Her impervious grip on Jade, that Jade had still yet to break, finally loosened, and the cloaked figure crumpled to the ground. Equal parts alarmed and horrifically fascinated, Jade knelt with her. For all of Fyora's violent grip, she didn't seem dangerous. Unable to satiate her curiosity, Jade reached out for the woman, whose head had tipped back. "What—" Jade tried again, her half-muttered word interrupted as Fyora's chin slowly swung down, eyes still wide and unseeing, once more reaching towards Jade and with a shaking, bloody finger, she painted the curve of Jade's cheek with the dark red streak. "I'm sorry," Fyora whispered then, with a tinge of her humanity in the devastation cracking in her voice, before opening her mouth, wide, in a horrific, wailing scream that cut through the cold air and through Jade's skin, piercing into her skin, so loud, inhuman.

Jade shot up in bed, the sound of the scream still echoing in her ears as she shook her head to rid herself of it, shaking the last remnants of the dream away. She laid her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beat rapidly, thrumming underneath her hot skin. She shivered, cold as the blankets laid rumpled around her, but her skin was covered in a layer of sweat. She took a moment to catch her breath, eyes wide as she took in the darkness of her empty room. She ran her hand up through her mussed hair, which fell wildly around her shoulders, finally breaking the silence with a whisper. "Damn."

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	2. Chapter 1

**1**

Jade was sitting at the kitchen table, her fingers enclosed around a cup of coffee, when the door opened, and she glanced up to reveal a very ruffled looking female, her roommate; Lythia'l. She appeared a disheveled woman, her short black hair ruffled, a peeved expression on her otherwise elegantly-boned face. She was quite beautiful, with her olive tanned skin and large brown eyes, but Jade knew there was more to her than an ordinary human would see. Her pearly white teeth were unusually strong—and sharp, and her soft, deerlike eyes were in actuality, naturally a vivid blue, brighter and darker than Jade's own. These were a few aspects of Lythia'l that were not quite right, for despite her human appearance, she wasn't human at all. Beneath her beautiful outlying skin was a redder, more veiny shell that was her natural skin. What she grew now was to appear to be human, but Jade knew what laid beneath. Lythia'l was a Mok'tagar demon, and it was Jade's knowledge of this that allowed them to peacefully coexist.

After all, they had both come to Haven to hide. Lythia'l, from another realm, where her kind lived, and Jade, well, she had her own reasons. They knew enough to live with each other, and though it had taken some getting used to, she had garnered an understanding with the demon, almost enough to call her a friend. Lythia'l had escaped from her dimension a score of years ago, calling it a 'quick break', though with a race that lived as long as hers, Jade found that a century or so of their lives was rather insignificant to them. Lythia'l had adapted well enough to living as a human, calling herself Elizabeth among humans' company, and worked as a school teacher during the day. But at night, she sought haunts with her fellow demons, and Jade knew that was where she had been that night, guessing exactly what had transpired from the discomfited expression on the demon's face.

"Lose at cards again?" Jade asked amiably, thankful the shake had gone from her tone. She had sat at the table for some time, trying to make sense of the dream that had gripped her. It was too real to just be shaken off as something she ate or something her mind just made up, and she knew to try to pin it on that would be a naïve thing to do. She had to take it seriously, as much as it disturbed her.

Lythia'l let out a huff, hanging up her leather jacket next to Jade's denim one, and Jade's eyes flicked to it, half expecting to see the blood-stain from her dream, but it was untouched. It had been in her dream, nothing more. "It's that damn vamp again. Ever since he started coming I haven't won a single game. None of us have. I haven't gotten any kittens in weeks." Lythia'l pouted, ringing her fingers through her short hair. At that moment, a quiet 'mrow' sounded, and a soft head bumped Jade's leg. "Maybe that's a good thing. We have enough cats as it is." Jade said with the barest amusement. The bizarre art of gambling with kittens had left their apartment with four cats, to Lythia'l's chagrin, as she found no use with them after they outgrew the kitten stage, and Jade, who preferred animals to people, had refused to hear of getting rid of them.

"Once you finally get it that we don't _need_ to hold onto the infernal things, then maybe you'll get the—" Lythia'l had finally turned to face her, leaning forward to grab her own chair at the kitchen table—though it was a small, pitiful rounded thing, uneven and stained—that she finally glanced at Jade and frowned. Jade blanched. Lythia'l was sensitive enough when she wanted to be, more observational than absentminded humans. She looked Jade up and down with a critical eye. "You're not usually up this late. It's three in the morning. And you look terrible."

"Thank you." Lythia'l wasn't known for her tact, and Jade gave her a mirthless smile as she raised her coffee cup to her lips. Her calf was rubbed again, and this time Jade reached down to scratch the cat's soft back, who curled up her tail in appreciation. But she was dropping her gaze to hide from Lythia'l's searching one.

"It was a dream." Jade said briskly after a brief pause. Lythia'l's tenacity and impatient curiousity meant that she would hound Jade for answers, so staying reticent wasn't in her best interest. "That's all. It was just… odd."

"Dreams, huh?" Lythia'l flicked her teeth with her tongue, the expectant look fading from her face. "Well you dream all the time—I hear you talking through the walls. But they don't usually shake you. But hey—" inspiration flashed across her face. "This one wasn't like the others. Real, right? Isn't that a sla—"

At Jade's sharp look, Lythia'l stopped mid word, flashing her a sharp, but otherwise apologetic smile. "Sorry. Forgot you don't like that word. But it is… that thing, right? A prophetic dream? What was in it? Was I in it? I didn't get found out did, I? I just settled in here, I don't want to move again." Lythia'l had in fact, been in Haven a full decade longer than Jade had, but it seemed as short as a blink of an eye to her. Jade shook her head wordlessly. "Something to do with the orphanage, I think. Their Keeper, Fyora was in my dream."

"That shifty little witch? I don't doubt it."

"There was something she said… I don't know what exactly it means." Jade curled her fingers around her coffee cup, which was now empty. _The young we'll chain, the small we'll drain. Drain, drain, drain. In the circle, they will die. Answer, answer their cry._ She shivered. It sounded more like a nursery rhyme than anything important. Well, not a happy one, more to the grim tunes of "in-flu-enza." It was too close in her mind to bear repeating, and she doubted Lythia'l would take it seriously.

"But you're not just going to forget it, are you?"

"No," Jade answered in a long, drawn-out syllable, as much as she wanted to, she knew she wouldn't be able to get it off her mind, and just ignoring it wasn't an option.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Go by the orphanage, see if anything's out of wack, I guess. Tomorrow, after work." She looked down at her watch. "Today, after work," Jade corrected.

"Well if it'll make you feel better." Lythia'l yawned, blinking her wide eyes that for a second flashed blue, before resuming their human form's brown hue. "Just be careful. You're, well you know, but you're still human." She pushed up from the table, long fingers pulling at the scarf around her elegant neck, stroking it absentmindedly in her hands. "But you know, it could just be you. You worry too much, you know. Shut up in here. You should think of coming to poker night with me sometime, loosen up."

"I thought you weren't having any fun since that vampire started playing and stealing all the kittens."

"Cheating, bleach blonde punk," Lythia'l exclaimed, her irritation flaring up again, and Jade smiled at Lythia'l's departing back, rubbing her temple with her fingers. Jade sat at the table, listening to Lythia'l's muffled mumblings from her own bedroom, until long after it quieted, and her roommate had finally settled down to sleep. Jade sighed. She was in the one place where she could escape, slip away from notice, hide beneath the radar in Haven, and yet it was still catching up with her. As much as she tried to ignore her—destiny? Her origins? They caught up with her, they always did.

"Jade, just go."

"Huh—what, sorry?" Jade snapped her head from where she was stocking beer bottles towards her boss, Eddie, a tall, thin man with long red hair. He would have seemed even younger than his mid twenties, a teenager almost, if not for his facial hair, which he probably grew to prove that he was in fact an adult, and capable of running a store. He was fair enough, didn't prod or ask too many questions. He manned the front, most of the sales, and Jade handled most of the receiving, stocking. He knew of her strength, and its asset, though they never spoke of it. It was the virtue of Haven, that strange things could be left unsaid. She pulled off her headphones, though the music hadn't been playing all day. She hadn't pressed play, her diskman laying quietly on her hip. She had been thinking of her dream, replaying the scene constantly in her head, trying to banish the shivers she felt on her skin. She couldn't pretend not to be bothered, the vivid scene she had been shown chilled her to the bone. She could still feel the stickiness of blood on her skin.

And so, she had been more than a little distracted this day. Her normally excellent reflexes had failed her when she had accidentally tipped and dropped a full box of beer. Eddie wasn't the sort to penalize her by taking it off her cheque, but it was still a mistake that she didn't make often. And she had put bottles back in the wrong place more than once. He looked at her, not irked, but a resigned expression in his hazel-green eyes. "I said go. You're not here, you've barely been all day. And I know you're not one to ask for time off, so just head out. I can handle the rest of your shift."

Jade straightened up, brushing stray hairs away from her forehead as she looked back at him. She nodded. She was mostly useless anyway, today. And she did have things on her mind. She wanted to talk to Fyora. And warn her? She still wasn't sure from her dream if Fyora was the victim or the problem. Or if she was even involved at all, not just some thought that was floating in Jade's head. "I appreciate it. Sorry, I'll be less distant for my next shift."

"Just go, it's fine." Eddie said amiably. "Haven't much business today anyway. Just deal with whatever's troubling you, alright?" He slunk away, leaving Jade standing there for another moment, thoughts still running in her head. Shaking it away, she gathered her things, shoving her Walkman into her backpack. Leaving the liquor store and blinking at the bright sun, she walked over to her motorcycle, a black Yamaha star from 2001 that was one of her only material possessions that mattered to her. If she had to run and leave Haven today, all she needed was this bike.

The Haven's orphanage was on the outskirts of town, uphill and every bit the cliché looking institution of horror movies. Few things in Haven were new, and the orphanage was no exception. Jade pulled her jacket closer around her, feeling the cold as she walked up to the front doors. At her buzz, there was silence and then thumping, and Jade found her heart was beating faster. Her fingers twitched, wishing for her weapon, but she wasn't decked out, like she would be at night, nothing on her but a small dagger, resting in her backpack. Though her hands were weapons on their own.

The door swung open, revealing one of the orphans. She was ten or eleven, with dark skin and large black eyes that lit up upon seeing Jade. Her name was Neva, and the cheerful thing was always more than happy whenever Jade came to visit.

"Jade!" Her young face broke into a wide smile. "You came to visit?"

"Something like that." Jade spoke. Being around children made her uncomfortable, but she made a conscious effort to try not to act like an ass. Children were young and obnoxious, loud and impulsive, but she didn't need to be cruel. She kept her distance for the most part, but couldn't completely ignore them. Haven was a well, Haven for those who wanted to be forgotten, but she didn't want to imagine what it would be like to live there as a child. "Is Fyora in? I want to talk to her."

Neva nodded empathetically, stepping back from the door and allowing Jade to step in. "She's in her office," she bounced along with Jade as they walked through the hall. It wasn't quite dilapidated, but the building was old, dusty, with cobwebs hanging from corners and a couple of cracks in the hall. It wasn't unsafe, just dirty. The orphanage wasn't at its full capacity either, with less than two dozen kids, and mainly just Fyora to watch them.

"It's so nice you came today. Did you come to say goodbye?"

Jade stalled, stopping on the back of her heel as she swivelled back towards Neva, who looked up at her with her large eyes and a bright smile. "Goodbye?" Jade questioned.

"Well, yeah. We're getting adopted. Fyora found homes for me, Rachel, Lisa, Gunner and Sophie. She's taking us tonight. Not in Haven though, so I won't see you anymore, but—"

"All five of you? Getting adopted? Have you met the families?" Jade frowned, her brow furrowing deeper at Neva's unconcerned, happy shake.

"No, but Fyora says they're lovely, and they'll take good care of us. She's taking us tonight."

That didn't seem right, and Jade's misgivings increased. They reached the end of the hall, where Fyora had appropriated one of the rooms to make as her office, her door open. Jade could see her through the doorway, dressed simply in a button up blouse, curly hair tucked, for the most part, out of her face, rifling through her papers. Jade's breath grew a bit ragged, remembering how Fyora had looked, wrapped in her cloak as blood dripped down her cheeks. "Hey," Jade called as she approached, and Fyora's head jerked up. Her expression was clear, if there was any worry, it was hidden by the smaller woman's casual smile. "Oh, Jade. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Came to pop in." Jade looked back behind her, Neva still hovering expectantly. "Thanks for the escort. Adults got to talk for a bit, okay kid?"

Neva pouted, then nodded, her mass of black hair bobbing with her. But before she turned to go, she had a hopeful expression on her face. "Did you bring anything?" She asked. Jade had brought treats from time to time, when she had something extra to give. Without expression, she reached into her backpack, pulling out the package of twizzlers she had bought that day. She was bit of a sucker, it was true, but Neva's expression lit up with glee as they were tossed to her, and she grabbed at them eagerly. "Thanks!" She shrilled, hands working to break through the plastic.

"Share those with the others." Jade coached at the child's departing back, before turning towards Fyora, who was holding some files in her hand, a light, expectant smile on her lips.

"They love the little gifts you bring them. Careful, I know you say you don't like children, but they'll follow you if you keep doing that." Fyora spoke in a friendly tone, and Jade tried to banish the memory of her shrill scream. Fyora certainly seemed normal, in a 60s housewife sort of way. All she was missing was a flower dress, and well, a husband. She was always polite and kept to herself, overseeing a group of strange children in an even stranger town. There was always something odd about it. "Did you need something?" Fyora added, after Jade's prolonged silence. Jade blinked once, hard, to jar her thoughts and focus.

"Just wanted to check up. Hadn't heard anything about here for a while." She would have thought since coming to the orphanage had consumed her thoughts all day, she could have thought up a better excuse, but she was too wound up in her dream. And now, since she was here, a strange feeling was crawling over her skin, warning her from being too forth bearing. She had thought that perhaps she should warn Fyora of the dream, of what had been said, but now she wasn't too sure. She remembered the way it felt when Fyora had snagged on her arm, and despite Jade's strength, she hadn't been able to shake her. That wasn't a warm feeling either. "Neva says she's getting adopted? Quite a few of them, actually, you must be pleased."

A flicker of surprise that was covered by a smile, Fyora nodded. "Yes, it's been quite a whirlwind. It's good for the children, though. I can only hope that the rest of them will find homes soon. They all deserve it."

"Right. Some more than others, I guess. Or sooner." Jade said offhandedly, thinking of the four that Neva had mentioned. There was something about all of them. She saw a light frown cross Fyora's features at Jade's comment, and Jade quickly cleared her throat. "I was wondering if you needed a babysitter."

"A babysitter?"

"Yeah. They're supposed to leave tonight, right? Neva said you were taking them."

"Oh, yes." Fyora said, regaining her smile, with only the barest of hesitation. "Well, yes, of course. That would be really appreciated—and of course, you'll be compensated for your time." Jade's suspicion increased, that Fyora hadn't found anyone to watch the children if she was taking the newly adopted herself, but this was what she wanted, anyway. Something was wrong, and she felt she had come at the right time. She had already made up her mind to look into the adoption—and follow them to wherever they were going. The words chain and drain resonated in her head, and she didn't like it. At least this way, she could start from the same place that they did, and follow after. And if this was just the paranoia from a bad dream—well she couldn't take that chance.

"Sounds good, then." Jade spoke. "I'll make sure they're safe and sound."


	3. Chapter 2

**2**

When Spike woke, he was on the floor, his head still spinning, and throbbing. "Bloody hell," He groaned, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead as he sat up. So he had come hope a little drunk the night before, elated from yet another successful game of poker, and as he was a more than a little imbibed, tripped over the footrest he had forgotten was there and spun out onto the floor. This was hardly the first occurrence of it in the last couple of months, and nurturing the bottle had become a bit of a habit with him. But damn it, why not? Hadn't he earned it by now? He pulled himself up, and feeling a bit peckish, headed to his fridge. He could bloody well drown his sorrows in drink if he wanted to. Not as if anyone cared. Not as if she cared. Muttering a curse or two, he poured his spiced blood drink into a mug, curling his fingers around the handle. A glance at his nails saw that the black paint had nearly been all chipped off, and he made a mental note to redo them.

While watching _Passions_ , perhaps. Season 7, and still going strong, it was as dastardly complex as ever. And helped him move the quiet sunlit hours along. So he wasn't so alone with his bloody thoughts. It wasn't on yet, and as he settled into his chair, he flicked through the channels, trying to block thoughts of that vexing blonde from his head. Oh she needed some time and space to think about things, did she? Oh she was too busy saving the world to complicate things? Well he'd show her. He'd show her that he didn't need her, didn't need to be anyone's champion, that he was quite happy living here in his underground flat, and if they thought Spike was going to jump up like a dog at the Scoobie's beck and call, at Buffy's beck and call whenever they needed him, well they could beg all they wanted, but he was staying right there.

He'd done the hero gig. Still hadn't gotten him the girl. It was better this way. Far, far away. Being near her and not being with her did maddening things to his head. And every time that ponce Angel showed up, the bare attention of hers that he did get, well that'd dwindle even smaller. And there was always some crisis, some something. He wanted a break from it all, from those catastrophes before it killed him. Well, again. Again, again. He didn't think he could get much more deader than being a vampire, but he had proved that wrong, hadn't he? And now he was just tired. Tired of it all, and so he had gone to the town called Haven, where he could hide in peace, out among others of his kind, where it wasn't a hellmouth. Just a place for freakshows, and he supposed he still fit that mix.

Didn't fit anywhere else, anyway.

He had long since finished his blood, moved on to cracking open a beer, with a cigarette sizzling between his lips when his tv began to blink oddly. After a whirring, erratic crackling, he stared as the screen began to flicker. "Oh, what now," He groaned. He really didn't want to have to filch another television, when suddenly a picture flickered, oddly, and then, a face appeared, one that was familiar to him, with her lively brown eyes and most-of-the-time red hair. He hadn't quite seen it turn all black—though a color he much preferred himself—but he'd heard tell of the tales, which admittedly he found more amusing than foreboding, thinking of the quirky redhead before him as being the big bad was an comical thought.

"Willow." He drawled.

"What the bloody hell are you doing on my telly?"

"Spike, hello." Her eyebrows shot up, a relieved smile playing on her lips. Not at the sight of seeing him, he guessed, more likely whatever spell she thought up now having worked—because that was what it was, the only way her face was pronounced on his screen—any the way whatever he was saying was being heard by her, and vice versa. That certainly wasn't a feature that been advertised on his television when he stole it. "And it's a long-distance communication spell from the techno pagans. I haven't actually tried it before. I'm actually surprised it works. Is the picture okay, and can you hear me from far away, like across your room—"

"Red, as ecstatic as I am for your little success, I'm going to have to go back to my first question, which is what and _why_ are you on my telly."

"Well, if I knew your number, or if you had a computer, I could have video-called you over it, which would have been easier, and boring—"

"Back to the why, darling." His tone was contemptuous, although in reality, he didn't harbor bad feelings towards the witch. She'd always treated him more or less fairly, even before he regained his soul, and it wasn't her fault how things were with Buffy. She wasn't to blame how Spike had been used and tossed to the curb again. Still, seeing her face brought up all the memories of Buffy, which he was more than wanting to avoid. Let him just drown his sorrows for a bit, alone in this sodding basement flat.

"Right, uh. There was something we were hoping you could look into." She blinked, her low, flat voice playing on casual, but her eyes flickered to the side somewhat when she mentioned 'we', avoiding the mention of the name 'Buffy', also referring to the 'Scoobies', Buffy's ever-loyal band of friends, not to mention all the little slayerettes that had sprung up around her. Keeping Buffy busy as ever, with her new network. "There's this Order, of the Dark arts we've been trying to track down. We've found they've been gathering power sources at five locations—and one is really close to you. Just outside town."

"And what, say, do you need me for," Spike asked, his patience waning. Tangling with the weird arts weren't his fancy, not when he could tangle with a demon or stake another vampire, but getting all magicked up was something he was more than happy to avoid. And for what? Because they needed him? Oh, good ol' puppy Spike, ready to leap into the fray because little miss Buff was asking him. Except she wasn't, and he wouldn't have done it for her anyway. Well, probably. No, definitely not.

"The seers say they're gathering their power tonight. They're supposed to be going to one place, but we don't know where that is. If you wouldn't mind, you know, giving it a look tonight."

"I'm busy. Now get off my telly, Passions is coming on."

"Spike. We have someone coming but they won't get there until tomorrow, and we need someone tonight."

The cigarette had burned to nearly a stub, and he dropped it to the ground, squishing it beneath his foot, leaning back in his chair. He hoped the witch could see his indifferent slouch. Because he was a big bad monster and not to be disturbed, that was right. The little red-head wouldn't break him, not a chance. He had cut himself free of all that scooby nonsense. He didn't care about it anymore. He was his own vamp, and nothing Willow said could change his mind. She had no hold over him, he didn't owe her anything. There was that she had never been unfair to him, or hostile, like that wanker Xander. In fact, out of the whole bunch—at least those living—she was the most tolerable. They had saved the world together, more than once and damnit. Her eyebrows were raising again, in that puppy-dog look way, innocence on her face, instead of the formidable witch he would do well to fear.

"It's important." She stressed, and damn his sodding soul, that twinge of guilt. He did still care. Just because of him and Buffy, didn't mean he could just turn his back on everything else.

Although he damn well wanted to.

" _Fine_. This one thing." He raised a finger in empathetic posture, before massaging his forehead in a sigh. "Now what do you want me to do exactly?"

He still didn't know what he was doing here. He sat on his motorcycle, out of town, out in a field in the middle of bloody nowhere, with Willow's damn befuddling instructions. Befuddling to him, anyway. He was where he was supposed to be, but there was nothing there, night had long since fallen, yet this "Order of the Darth" or whatever, wasn't here either. And he was supposed to be looking for some kind of power source they were gathering, which he didn't know what it looked like it. And then stop them, from doing whatever, as they apparently tried to gather their resources through teleportation or portals, or some nifty hocus pocus. Without dying. Willow hadn't mentioned that last part, but Spike had it quite high on his list. Try to stop the bad people, don't die over it. This was just one step, or whatever. He didn't know. Willow's babble was baffling, and even if he had tried listening more, that woman could confuse anyone, he was sure. Spike wasn't for talking, himself. He was about the doing, preferably with physical violence. And soon. He was getting bored, and his smokes were running low.

And then, _thankfully_ , he saw lights on the horizon. "Bloody finally." He muttered. It was in a black, unmarked van, and as the door opened, he saw a figure in a cloak sidle out of the van, followed by five small shapes—children? Where was the power sources? If this was even the right place, the right people. He stayed to the shadows, stepping away from his bike, hiding in the quiet as the sound of young, vibrant voices filled the air. The children were talking loud, excitedly, as they followed the cloaked figure through the field.

He didn't see the second figure approach—rather they seemed to appear from thin air, dressed in a cloak, taller than the first adult. The words they exchanged couldn't be heard by Spike's ears, not as the children spoke, who turned from each other, looking on curiously at the newcomer. But as their voices turned questioning, the second figure raised his hand—or hers, Spike couldn't tell, not until the voice rang out, deep and commanding. "Silencium." The cloaked figure thundered, and it was as if the breath was sucked out of the air, and immediately the children quieted. He could just make out the confusion on their faces in the darkness, as their mouths opened but no sound came out. They twitched nervously on their small feet, ready to rabbit. Spike stiffened, drawing his hands into his pockets as he began to move, over to where they were. He knew Willow had wanted him to do recon, in the very least, that charging in blindly without feeling out his surroundings wasn't something that she would have recommended.

But blindly charging in was something that he did very well. Or at least, habitually. But as he strode forward, more words came from the magic-doer's mouth, among them, something that sounded very similar to 'reveal'. Spike didn't know jack about Latin, and despite his long years of living, hadn't bothered to rectify that. It wasn't important, but then, before his eyes, the field shifted. Where it had been empty air and mist, a large building now sat, made of blocks of stone and wood, an ancient looking structure arose, towering and intimidating.

"What the bloody hell," Spike muttered, his eyebrow arching as he momentarily stalled in his tracks. In the same moment, the children were knocking back into each other, ready to flee. The cloaked man turned back to him, and with an easily sounded "Vinculum," chains materialized, as quickly and as solidly as the building had, wrapping themselves around the children's wrists, chaining them to each other. They no doubt would have screamed, but the silencing spell still held affect. With fear reflected on their small faces, the two cloaked figures began to usher them forcefully into the temple.

It was at this point that Spike broke out into a full-fledged run, sprinting across the field, all pretense of hiding gone. However, they had disappeared within before he could even reach the door. He reached out for the wooden door, the long metal handle and pulled, hard, nearly wrenching it from his hinges as he stepped inside. Hoping for a fight, he swore under his breath at the empty, long hallway. Light flickered dully from alight torches. The hallway seemed ancient, with layers of dust settling on the dilapidated cracks in the stone. He looked around impatiently, thundering down the corridor, until it opened into a large room, with engraved staircases, leading up to the second floor. And there they were, the two cloaked figures standing near the railing, the children huddling nearby, their eyes wide and with tears running down their cheeks. The two seemed to be chanting, a green light appearing, the beginnings of some spell, like a portal. Right, didn't Willow said they had to gather the power sources, first, take them somewhere else? Well he was beginning to guess what the power sources were, though he had no idea what they needed with children. If they hadn't noticed him before, they certainly saw him now, with the smaller figure—a woman, pausing mid chant to flicker her eyes down towards him. Her face was shadowed, both by her hood and the dim lighting, but her lips began to move again, a light tremble.

"I suppose I'm here to stop you wankers, from whatever child labour revolution show you're re-enacting. Step away from the light show, come quietly," He couldn't believe he was saying that. What a softie he was becoming, giving them a chance and all, and usually he'd hope they wouldn't even consider taking it, but there were quite a few innocents in the way, and dearly ensouled Spike had to think of them first. The woman said a word then, one he couldn't quite make out. He heard two sounds then, clattering in both his ears. One sounded like footsteps, from behind him, and another was a slight clack. To his mistake, he turned behind him first, catching only the glimpse of a figure before his peripheral vision warned him of something else. The clacking hadn't been a trap, at least not one that was set up, but magic had it released, and he was granted the sight of wooden sticks flying through the air, sped by magic, and rushing straight towards his heart.


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Lythia'l had said, not for the first time. In fact, she had protested quite a few times since Jade had first asked her help. It was true that the demon was doing her a favor, one she desperately needed, and that was the only thing keeping her impatience in check. Even then, Jade took a second to sigh away from the phone, hearing Lythia'l's continued, "If you offered to babysit the children I don't see why I have to. Or why you even bothered to say it in the first place, and make it so you're expected to be there." It was again, not the first time that Lythia'l had brought up that point, nor the first time Jade had tried to explain. She figured her roommate was just irritated and wished to complain, and Jade supposed she owed her that right. Still, it was aggravating. Jade didn't like playing the hero more than anyone else, and if she had another choice… but she didn't. The vision had come to her, and she was going to figure out what it meant. Even if it meant listening to Lythia'l complain.

When she was sure she could keep the annoyance out of her voice, Jade finally turned the phone back towards her. "So I could be here, waiting, without being suspicious. I need to find out wherever they're going. Which means I need someone powerful to watch the kids. Which means you. Please." She added the please as an afterthought. Lythia'l would do it, Jade knew, as long as the demon was fawned over and made to feel important. Jade wasn't sure if that was a Mok'tagar thing, but it was definitely Lythia'l's. A grumble on the other end of the phone made Jade want to sigh again, this time in relief. It was acquiescence, no matter how grudgingly, and Jade was grateful it meant that this conversation was finally coming to a close.

"Fine. When you call me, I'll be there."

That had been a few hours ago, and now Jade sat in the porch, widening her eyes to see through the darkness. The kids had still turned back from now and then, waving to the house. They had already been through their tearful goodbyes, even towards Jade, and Jade had to shoo away Neva's attempt at a hug more than once. Fyora was helping the children pile the rest of their belongings into the van, and impatiently, Jade lit a cigarette, letting it burn between her fingers for a moment before placing it on her lips, eyes glued to the scene. She was nervous, feeling her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She had a bad feeling about this, a nervousness and an anxiety that wanted something to happen to justify it as much as she wanted nothing to happen again. Just paranoia. Her free hand began to tighten around her phone, just a tap of a number away from calling Lythia'l to take over watching the children. Jade had already sent them to bed, as it was late, and the goodbyes between the children had been long enough.

Her breath was shaky with the exhalation of smoke, and the cigarette was doing little to calm her splintered nerves. She hadn't done anything like this for a long time. She kept to herself for a reason.

Finally, the doors of the van closed, and Jade watched tentatively as the vehicle came to life, and she waited, in the doorway, waiting for it to move. After a pause, the engine sounded, and Jade whipped her phone to her ear. "It's time," She said, after the call was picked up after the first ring. There was a pop then, not quite a break in the connection, when then where there was no-one standing beside her in the dark, abandoned porch of the institution, there was Lythia'l, having easily teleported herself. Her pretty face was skewed with an irritated expression. "Okay, I'm here." Jade was barely listening to her, watching the van pull out of the driveway. Jade let her cigarette fall, crushing it with her heel.

"The kids are upstairs, sleeping." Jade said in a rush, reaching for the door. She heard Lythia'l's sigh. "They're sleeping then. They don't need a babysitter. Who's going to come after them?"

"Lyth." Jade warned, pausing in the doorway, a strong breeze of cold air hitting her skin, eyes still on the van, waiting for it to pull out of sight. But she had no more patience for Lythia'l, to explain why she couldn't just leave the rest of the children, even if the danger didn't surround them. She had to make sure.

"Fine, fine. I'm going to steal your soul someday you know, this is all so I don't feel bad about it." It wasn't the first time that Jade had heard Lythia'l say that, but Jade was far from ignorant about the practices of Mok'tagar demons, she wouldn't have lived with one otherwise, but she knew Lythia'l didn't mean it as a threat. She might not have had much in the loyalty, but she had enough, which was why she was here, albeit reluctantly. Jade trusted her at least that much, so Lythia'l's fuming bothered her little.

"I know. Thank you." Jade glanced back at the peeved Lythia'l, giving her a small, grateful smile. "You should be okay. But—just in case, there's no-one better to be here." She stepped through the doorway, out into the cold, but before the door swung shut, Lythia'l caught it.

"Yeah. Well you be careful. I know you're—well that doesn't mean you're invincible. Don't do anything stupid. I'm not keeping those cats if you don't come back."

It was touching, her concern, no matter how the demon tried to conceal it. Jade didn't waste any more time, walking quickly over to her bike and starting it up. She freed her hair from her usual ponytail, letting it cascade down her shoulders—it was quite long now, but having it in a ponytail underneath her motorcycle helmet gave her a headache. Hair free, she shoved on her helmet and drove after the van. She didn't turn on the light, and thankfully her motorcycle was quiet enough to not draw attention to her. She had waited a couple of necessary moments to give her some distance, but she would rather be caught then let them get too far away for her to follow.

The moments seemed long, as they were headed out of town, and she glanced at the departing Haven behind her, though they were still close enough to the city's limits. She had kept the van in just bare vision, but as it slowed, so did she, her heart beating rapidly. Had they seen her? She really didn't have an excuse thought out if they had, except for, "Oh hey I got lost while watching the children." But excuse was only needed if what they were doing was innocuous and this was an overreaction on Jade's part. If it only _was_ just an overreaction, but her suspicion increased as the van turned off the road, heading out onto the dirt and grass out in a field. She crossed the terrain slower than they did, just barely seeing their outline in the dark, to keep from being detected. When they finally stopped the car, she cut off her motorcycle's engine at the same time, kicking out the stand and taking off her helmet. Hanging it carelessly on her bike, she took off at a jog towards the still-lit van.

She saw the building appearing more vividly than anything else, the old-looking, stone-built structure. A shiver ran through her body. Magic, definitely magic. She barely felt the cold then, pulling her machete free from her back-pack and strapping it to her hip mid-stride. She pulled her compound bow from her back next, a smaller one that wasn't much longer than the length of her arm. She had a feeling, if there were magicians—witches, warlocks, whatever, that they wouldn't be too fond of fighting face to face. Still, if they were allied with Fyora or against her—that still remained to be seen. She was still halfway across the field when she saw the figures—eight now? A new figure, cloaked as Fyora now was, had joined the scene. Jade narrowed her eyes, but her night-vision left much to be desired. They opened the door of the stone building and walked inside, followed shortly by another figure—a man in a black coat, who ran in after them. Not surreptitiously, as a spy might, but aggressively. Jade pursed her lips and sprinted the rest of the way.

She was fast, and strong, and the run didn't take too much out of her, but her heart still hammered hard in her chest—more likely from apprehension than exhaustion. Her bow in hand, she jogged down the hall. Having forgotten to die her hair up, it tumbled down her face, her shoulders, barely rectified by an impatient shake of her head. She heard chanting before she reached the room, and there was the figure she had glimpsed entering the building before she did. He stood tall—taller than she did anyway, in a long black coat that swept only a few inches above ground. The first thing that she noticed was his platinum blonde hair, gelled up away from his face, and the words _bleach blonde punk_ echoed in her mind. He was turned away from her, only the side of his face visible, the sharp edge of his cheekbones as he looked up, speaking to someone. She didn't pay attention to his words, her eyes instead on the flicker of movement coming from his other side. He moved then, turning his face first in her direction, and for a heartbeat, their eyes met. Then, as quickly as he had swiveled towards her, he let out a curse and turned away, from where the wooden spikes were hurling themselves through the air, towards him.

She hadn't realised she had started moving again, to join him in the large room, as he twirled, just in time, to avoid most of the deadly projectiles, smacking a few of them out of the way with his arms. In the same moment however, more sprang, now from behind where both he and Jade were standing. She saw it first, before he could, and she was quick, her reflexes honed, enough so that she reached out and pushed the man with enough strength to cause him to stumble backwards more than a couple feet, and the stakes that would have buried themselves in his back, in his heart, flew harmlessly through the air.

Well, most of them. Jade let out a strangled cry as she realised some of them had hit their mark—one sinking into the arm that had pushed the blonde man out of way, and two more embedded in her torso. The man turned back to her, his eyes wide with bewilderment, a confused scowl on his face as he looked upon her, sinking to her knees. Jade clutched at her stomach, grinding her teeth to prevent another groan, looking up towards the chanting was still coming from, and an increasingly bright light, that snapped green electricity, some sort of portal. And standing before it, at the top of the stairs, was Fyora. She looked down, no remorse as she gazed at Jade, while her companion continued to speak in latin that meant nothing to Jade. But the huddled kids did, as she found them then, the five of them grasping close to each other, their wrists shackled with manacles. Her eyes found Neva's, who had tears running down her dark cheeks, her mouth moving in a silent 'Help us, help us.'

"What the sodding—" The man finally spoke, an English tilt to his voice, as he was still looking down at her with alarm, temporarily disarmed by his surprise. He was bleeding from one shoulder, having a stake embedded in his flesh, but Jade knew she was the worst of the two of them. "Help them," Jade forced out, as he hesitated, and a determined scowl covered his features once more, looking back up at the stairwell. But it was too late, as the man finished his incantation with a "…Aperta porta!" Another green flash, and a swirling gateway appeared, a hole in…air it seemed, brimming with energy. As the blonde man began to race up the stairs, Jade watched Fyora raise her hand, causing a shout from the man as he was flung backwards, as if hit by something large, and not… air. A telekinetic force that kept him from getting to the two casters. Jade tried to raise to her feet then, when the pain in her abdomen increased, and she realized how much blood was seeping through her fingers as she had pressed them to her stomach to put some pressure. The wooden stakes were still there, long and thin, but deep, protruding from her skin. It hurt, badly. She took a second, a gulping of constricted air, before pushing up with her one hand, the one that wasn't covered in blood. Her bow lay at her feet, forgotten as she tried to stand. And she did, for a second, before stumbling. She floundered back a few steps before her back landed against solid stone, the wall behind her. She tried to use it to support her weight, to keep on standing, but her knees buckled, and she sank back down to the floor, her body crying out in relief. And pain. When she looked back up, the man was leading the kids into the portal—pushing them, who still cried silently. Jade made another attempt to get up, feeling the blood pool down her stomach, trickling to the floor, but this time, couldn't stand.

"Will you stop knocking me about," the blonde haired man growled in frustration, his eyes narrowing further as the kids were being hauled off, though his next attempt to climb the staircase again had him thrown, this time all the way to the back wall where Jade laid sprawled. Dust and stone crumbled where his back hit the wall, a few feet to her left. "Bloody cowards, stealing children, hiding behind your tricks. Got anything else up your sleeve, bitch?" He swore at Fyora, who looked back at him impassively.

"Now. Leave them." Jade could just make out the second cloaked figure's words as he too stepped into the portal, which crackled and spat. Fyora looked after where he went, ready to follow.

"Fyora!" Jade managed, as loud as she could, though each breath was painful. "Don't do this. They're just children. Whatever you're trying to do—don't." Fyora stopped for a moment, turning back towards them, as the man in the black coat pulled himself back onto his feet, ready for another go. Fyora's hand outstretched, and commanded, "Vinculum." Chains appeared, wrapping around the man, and pulling him, cursing, back to the wall, wrapping around his wrists and pulling them above his head. Jade let out her own curse as they appeared around her own wrists, pulling them away from where they pressured her stomach, forcing her to her feet as they wrenched her arms up. She whispered another expletive under her breath, raising her eyes to Fyora, whose face was expressionless.

"Goodbye, Jade." She spoke in a detached face, turning away, and stepping through the portal, which flickered for a moment longer, and then disappeared in a flash of light, closing it behind her. Jade leaned her head back against the hard, cold stone, trying to fight the hopelessness that rose up in her as surely as the pain did. So much for a daring mission, or for Fyora being the one in danger. The children's caretaker had betrayed them all. And had left Jade here, trapped. Where she was going to die.


	5. Chapter 4

**4**

So the baddies had gotten away. Big bloody deal. That definitely wasn't the first time that had happened to him—carefully laid out planning gone sour. Except there hadn't been planning, and it had just been a run and charge gig. Which, to be fair, didn't have a great record of working out. And so it hadn't, those bloody witches or warlocks, or whatever had left him the fool, with those snivelling, crying kids forced in with him. That was one of the worst things about having his soul. The guilt he felt now was wracking. If it had just been a couple of gems or whatever that they had been trying to take, he would have said screw it, regrouped and tried something else. But the fact that they were kids, and they were gone, well damn. What if one of them had been Dawn? Dawn Summers, the sometimes snot-nosed brat, or Niblet, as he called her, well he always had a bit of a soft spot for her. Although she wasn't exactly a child any more, he had tried to protect her. More oftenly for the sake of her big older sister, Buffy, but also because he cared for her, he did. And he had left her at the same time he had left Buffy. Hadn't even said a good-bye, and that wasn't fair. It wasn't Dawn's fault how things had gone with Buffy and him, but he had left the Niblet's life all the same. Sometimes he could even convince himself that it was for her own good, but he couldn't quite shake the guilt. And he was reminded of it now, seeing the helplessness in the kiddie's faces as they were carted away into that damned portal, including the bitch who had tried to make him a pin cushion, who muttered a cold and careless goodbye as she too vanished.

But not at him, at his sudden and unexpected help. And who the hell did this broad think she was? She had rushed in, hitting Spike not-that-gently out of the way after he had dodged the first round of wooden death sticks but not the second—and why? He had been shoved out of the way at the expense of her own—and likely much less durable—skin, and now she had those stakes sticking out of her flesh that would have been in his. That didn't help to add to his guilt, although Spike added to himself to make him feel better that it was just as likely they were trying to kill her as they were him, so it was her own fault for running in there. And why, he had no idea. The way she had asked him to help the children made him think she had some connection to them somehow, a child or a sibling, he didn't know. Not that it had mattered, no matter how she had pleaded. He had failed, knocked down that staircase every time he climbed up it, by some invisible force that hurled like a battering ram. He hated magic.

And it had him again, those damn chains that had wrapped themselves around the children had tied him just as solidly to the wall. He grunted, pulling at where they came from the stone wall, and he could feel and hear a grinding, a small give, but they held firm. Even if he could break from them, it'd take a while, a lot of pulling. And he wasn't alone. He looked to his right, where the mystery woman had been changed as well. He wondered why they had bothered. Two long pieces of wood sticking out of her torso, another out of her arm—it was fairly certain that she wasn't going anywhere. The smell of her blood was thick and strong, and he could see it dripping onto the floor. Damn. He hadn't had human blood in a long while, and it had been a few hours since he had last eaten. Drank, whatever. But the smell of her blood was a lot more appealing than the pig's blood he usually downed.

He strained against his chains to look at her. She was pale, even more so from her blood lost, her eyes were closed as she breathed faintly. Long brown hair tumbled down her shoulders, some strands caught in the sticky viscosity of her blood, which ran down her jean jacket and jeans, staining her grey shirt that had a cartoon Spiderman on it. "Hey," He called, "You alive?"

Her eyelids flickered, and she opened her eyes, lips in a thin line to disguise the pain as she managed a quiet, "Yeah." She was attempting to stay as still as possible, her shoulder blades leaning into the wall to support herself, the chains nearly dangling her away from the floor. As it was, her feet couldn't quite stay flat-footed, so she was balanced on her tip-toes.

"Then who the bloody hell are you?" Spike wasn't one to coddle. For as long as she could speak, he wanted answers. He surmised her name was Jade, from what the cloaked bitch had said before her departure, but what was the woman doing here. Following him? Following the children?

She didn't seem to take offense at his no holds-barred tone, something that resembled a smile but was more likely a wince curling her lips. "Jade. That woman—Fyora took five kids from the orphanage where she works today. I was following her to find out why." She let out a shaky breath, her throat hoarse. "Guess I found out."

Spike narrowed his eyes. "You work at this orphanage then?"

"No. I just visit from time to time." She rolled her head up, looking at the chains that bound her. Spike had to give her some credit for what she did next, straining and pulling at the chains. It wasn't smart, though, as she soon desisted with a hiss of pain.

"Kid-lover, then?" Spike was beginning to be confused, and the answers he was getting weren't helping any. He still didn't know who she was or what she was doing here.

"No. Can't stand them usually."

"Then why—"

"I had a bad feeling. A warning from someone, really. I was following up on it." She sighed, closing her eyes again, before opening them to look back at Spike. "And you?"

"Not particularly fond of the little buggers, no—"

"Your name, I meant." Jade spoke, weariness in her tone. She was still bleeding, that precious blood that was seeping down her shirt, though at least the projectiles still embedded in her skin stopped the brunt of the flow. But he imagined it would still be a bitch to move or breathe. He'd know, his shoulder was still aching by the own intruder, and he couldn't even pull it out so he could heal, not with his arms trapped like this. "I'm Spike." He said, although it was nearly pointless to tell her his name. She looked like she was losing consciousness, and if they stayed chained for much longer than that, unconsciousness would turn to just plain death.

"Can you loosen your chains at all, Spike?"

"Not enough." He raised his eyebrows and pulled at them. Again, just the barest grinding. "Don't suppose you have some hidden muscles to spring us free, darling?"

Amusement glinted in her blue eyes as she answered with the same words. "Not enough." Sweat glistened on her forehead in beads, although his eyes were more drawn to the blood staining her clothes.

"Don't suppose you have any little friends coming to rescue you? I'm starting to have a crick in my neck and I'm feeling a mite peckish."

"No. No-one." She said it quietly, closing her eyes again and leaning her head back against the wall. He had spoken with humor, although it was true he could stand to be chained here for quite some time—although it sure as hell wasn't on the top of his list. It was true that he was hungry, although he could live without blood for a while. Although it was a shame that the bleeding meat-sack beside him would be dead far sooner than that. A waste. If only she was closer, and even then, it wasn't in him to attack her, not any more. No, he'd watch her die like a good little ensouled vampire. Willow said that someone would be here in town, by the next day, so it was possible they'd come searching for him here. Still, that was hours from now, at the very least, and it was likely this Jade would be a corpse. Her eyes were open again, and she had turned her head towards him, an intensity in her eyes.

"You're staring." He said, with a certain smugness that he managed, even with his arms forced unceremoniously above his head, chained quite ungracefully to the wall. "Are you thinking how glad you are that I'll be the last thing you see?" Since she hadn't reacted badly so far to quips about their situation, he decided to keep it up, although it was a very real chance that she was, indeed looking upon the last thing she was going to see in this world. Her expression didn't change, not with humor or disgust, just simple thought.

"You said you were hungry," She spoke after a long moment.

"Yeah? What of it?"

"It gave me an idea." She began moving oddly then, though her smartest move would be to be still, and she let out a sharp hiss as she began to swing herself, slowly, towards him, moving her leg that was closer to him, along the wall. "Moving's probably not the smartest plan for you right now," He cautioned as her face contorted with pain as she moved her leg up higher and closer to him, up along the wall.

"Could you just help me move my leg up?"

"Why, so you can kick me in the face?" She wouldn't be the only one who wanted to do that—or had, over the long years he'd been alive. Although it was mostly punching. Lots of punching on his pretty face. She had gotten her foot over near to his hip, trying to edge it upwards—it did seem like she was trying to kick him, although there was very little force behind it.

"No," she spoke in a grunt. "So you can feed."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he jerked. With a curse, her foot toppled from where it had gripped near his hip unsteadily, and with a glower at him, she began moving it upwards again.

"What the bloody hell—you know what I am?" She knew he was a vampire, and had said it so calmly. Not only that, she was offering to be his _blood bank_? Was she crazy? Sure, he supposed his conscience couldn't really have a problem with that, since she was offering and all, but was she crazy? Her last act on his planet, feed the vampire? "How—"

"Not now. Help me get my leg up so you can reach it." She was distinctly paler than she had been before, he supposed he should be shocked she was still able to move, hadn't yet fallen unconscious to the pain. It was remarkable, for a human. But that's what she was, and apparently a crazy one at that.

"It's not going to do any good. Not that I don't appreciate you offering me a bite and that, Bloody Mary, but—"

"It'll make you stronger." She spoke with conviction, a pant. Her foot rested near his hip again, balanced precariously on a slightly jutting out stone slab. He grimaced, a light smile. "It'll fill my tummy. But unless your blood contains steroids—which still wouldn't do a bloody thing."

"Better than steroids." Jade murmured hesitantly, pain etched on her face, though he thought it might be more than related to just her wounds. "The blood of a slayer."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide, before his mouth turned into an ironic smile. Slayers! He went to the damn pits of a hiding hole, and still he couldn't be free of the damn things, the reminder. A slayer. With slayer blood. And she was looking at him, determined, and all he could think of was Buffy. The Slayer. The slayer of her time anyway, before every potential left right and center got activated. Spread all over the world, giving Buffy so much more to do than she ever had before. Buffy. Any mention of a slayer and his thoughts went right back to her. That expression she got on her face, when she was pissed, when she was happy, just any of them. All of them. Her face was burned into his memory, into his thoughts. He saw her everywhere, even in the woman beside him, who looked nothing like her. Who was looking at him, waiting. "Why?" He growled after a moment. He watched confusion cross her features at the broadness of his question, and though she waited, he didn't seem in the mood to elaborate, and he wasn't. He had a slew of extensions to that question. Why was _she_ here, a slayer, when Willow was convincing him there was no-one else to do this. Why did she have to be here, offering her blood. And why would she even consider this plan, when it was likely to do little else but accelerate her already short life span.

"It might make you strong enough to break the chains. Get free." She was still whispering. Her leg was still where it had been, but she was tiring, her eyelids half-closed, with sweat running down her face, soaking the baby hairs on her forehead and turning them a dark brown.

"You'll probably die." He warned, still holding a dangerous tone. These damn slayers and their cavalier attitude about dying. He had died more than most, and he would do anything to keep it from happening again. He was the undead, and he wanted to stay that way, for eternity.

She smiled, slightly. "Either way, I die. This way, at least there's a chance. You'll make it. Maybe help those children. It's better than nothing." Her gaze held his, stronger now. Her foot twitched, and this time Spike strained against his chains, bringing himself closer towards her. There was relief in her expression as she struggled to bring her leg up further. He brought his own leg up to shift hers along, upwards. "Good thing you're flexible," he spoke in a lighter, haughty note, after a moment. "Bad angle, though," Jade winced as they brought her leg up, inching her ankle closer and closer to his neck. His bad mood had gone for the moment as he let him accept what she was offering. Thoughts of Buffy had frustrated him, but they had nothing to do with the moment. "I do prefer the neck," He added, and Jade had enough strength to glower briefly at him as finally, she rolled her leg up the last stretch, resting it under one of his arms, and close enough for him to just reach down, if he stretched his neck as far as he could. Not exactly the more comfortable as positions, but they had managed. He could feel her leg trembling at the effort of keeping it so high, and the strain of that with her injuries must have been magnanimous.

"If this doesn't work, I appreciate the snack." He spoke to her, in a carefree, leisurely tone. He tried to hide the guilt he shouldn't even feel. It wasn't as if he was taking, she was offering, and it could be the only thing to set them free. If it worked. But he had tasted Slayer blood before. Buffy's blood. A single lick, the taste of her sweet blood, and it had given him enough strength to break free of the First. He tried not to remember the taste of her, the fear in her green eyes as she had gazed back at him. He glanced once at Jade, expecting to see some of that same fear in her eyes, but there was nothing, just simple acceptance. When he felt the change overtake his face, felt his forehead morph and his fangs appear, she held his gaze for another long moment. And when her eyes closed, he sank his teeth into her flesh.


	6. Chapter 5

**5**

First there was only darkness. A dim light surged up but it was followed immediately by pain. It coiled through her, sinking around her and through her body like thick molasses, caging her. It was agony to breathe and move, but she realised then that she could. And if she could then she must be alive. Because what but life could hurt so much? As her deadened senses came back to her she could only wish for that sweet saccharine embrace of unconsciousness, where she could float away instead of be grounded here. But she was here, with the shallow rising and falling of her chest, the twitching of her fingers, and the flickering of her eyelids. She was alive, somehow, and she couldn't turn from it. She felt a shadow flicker across her vision from under her eyelids. There was a light pressure then, and a sound of tearing from her torso. Her eyes flew open then, hand flying up to protect herself, and she enclosed her fingers around a wrist. She held tight as she could, even as he tried to wrench his arm back, exclaiming, "Settle down there, Wildfire, you're getting blood over everything."

Her vision was still blurry, and she blinked hard to clear her vision. The first thing she became aware of was his face—closer to her than it had been before. She could see it now in its infinite detail, the crisp, stiff edges of his platinum blonde hair, pushed away from his face, his darker, almost black eyebrows, and the fork-shaped scar that spanned one of them. His eyes looked down at her, a pale blue, his lips in a thin line, the curve of his cheekbones pronounced and defined. He was…handsome, she admitted, for what he was, with his pale skin and smooth lines etched over his face. He couldn't be much older than thirty, although how long he had looked like that she couldn't be sure. She had been right about her vampire theory at least, and perhaps that wasn't all she suspected that might be right.

She looked around, trying to get ahold on her surroundings. They weren't in the stone building they had been in—last night? She had no sense of time, and there were no windows, no light from the outside to tell her what time it was. She could have been unconscious for hours, or days. And she was in a bed—on top of one, rather, with a black and red comforter that she sank into. She looked down at herself now, using her free arm to prop herself up. His hands were still extended, and she glimpsed the bandages between his fingers. Her jacket was removed, and she couldn't see it, but she saw he had ripped her shirt open, leaving the flesh of her torso bare. Her modesty was protected, just barely by her tan bra, but it wasn't the time to be embarrassed or shy. She saw the bandages he had already applied, where the wood splinters had been sticking out of her, though they were stained a deep russet. At any other time she would have sought to cover herself, though it was obvious that he had been trying to give her aid. Why, she didn't know, and though the gauze wasn't artfully applied, it was there. And she was alive. More surprises.

He watched her eyes detail the wounds. "It was easier than taking your shirt off," He supplied at the torn piece of clothing that acted more as a vest now than anything else. She flickered her gaze up to him. There was sincerity in his tone, though his expression was impassive, careful. She nodded, then added a "Thank you." Her gratitude stood for a quite a few things. He had taken her out of where they had been, back here where she was safe. Where she was hopefully safe, anyway. It wasn't a hospital, where she should probably be, but she was more than grateful she wasn't. She couldn't go to a hospital, be in their records, let them see how fast her wounds healed. If they did heal fast. She withheld a pained hiss at the ache she felt in her torso. It hurt still—badly. But she was alive, and that was no doubt due to her Slayer healing abilities. It had saved her, again. She didn't know how she felt about that. Mostly relieved, for now.

"You want to let go?" He added after a moment, one of his eyebrows arching, and she realized she was still holding onto his wrist. He hadn't tried to shake free, though he no doubt could have, being what he was. And she felt weak, weaker than she had in a long while. She acquiesced, unpeeling her fingers from his skin. His skin wasn't cold, or warm, even, but pale and smooth. There was a light coloring of red, the remnants of her blood from a previous bandaging was all she could guess. "You bled through the bandages. I need to redo these." He was talking as if to a child, looking back at her languidly, no obvious emotion on his face that she could tell. She began to move backwards, to prop herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in her arm. She had almost forgotten, as it hadn't been as deep as the other two wounds in her torso, but her arm had been struck as well. She was dimly aware that with all the pain she felt, where he had bit into her ankle was barely more than a dull throb. It hurt the least. "Alright then," he muttered mostly to himself, and sat on his chair next to the side of the bed, still tall enough to be head to head with her. "I don't have much practice with patching people up. I'm more about causing the wounds me-self." His hands reached towards her torso, and she felt her stomach tighten involuntarily. He was close, much closer than anyone had been in a long while, and she was so unused to touch that it unnerved her. He glanced up at her, hesitating himself, and waiting for her go ahead. She nodded then, once, and he applied his fingers to the first bandage, pulling it slowly from her skin. She tightened her fists until her knuckles were white, but didn't make another sound.

"Why did you save me then?" She asked, and his expression changed to one of exasperation. "I didn't expect to survive the blood-loss."

"Well you pushed me out of the way, didn't you. Figured we'd be even now. I didn't have much more than a taste." He wiped away the blood around her first wound. It was deep, but the shard of wood hadn't been wide, and it had closed, for the most part. It wouldn't need stitches, but that didn't mean she couldn't tear it again if she wasn't careful.

"But you could have. I could have bled out either way."

"You're not wrong about that." He avoided her eyes, finishing the bandage on her stomach. His fingers brushed her skin as he laid the tape down, and she shuddered, tensing her abdomen.

"Odd behavior for a vampire, isn't it?"

This time his eyes did meet hers, pale twin blues that pierced through her, his eyebrows raised. He didn't look threatening as much as ominous. "And how did you know about that? You knew right away. Not to mention to followed me, where I was told I was the _only_ one who could be there. Did she send you, then?" His voice darkened, and the mention of 'she', his eyes narrowed further, angry. Jade looked back at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. No-one had sent her. She opened her mouth, this time letting out a pained groan. His fingers had found the second bandage, ripping it away a little less tenderly this time. The acrimony in his expression faded suddenly, replaced with a sullen guilt. "Sorry," He muttered, more subdued. Jade grimaced, the closest thing she could manage to a encouraging smile.

"I recognized you." She answered, then quietly, to the first question he had asked, not the ones that had followed after in increasing urgency. "My roommate, she plays cards with you. Bleach blonde vampire punk, were her words, or something like that."

"Punk? Ah, that broad. I can't be blamed that she doesn't know how to cheat well, now can I?"

"Well, you're the only one she blames."

"Doesn't stop her from making big 'sex me' eyes at me every night." He said with a smug smirk, finishing off the second bandage. She laid back in the pillows, relieved to put some distance between them, still feeling the sensation of his touch upon her skin. It was easier to breathe with him back, and the vulnerability she felt, with her torn clothing, would hopefully dissipate. His eyes flickered to her chest, but she knew his leer wasn't libidinous as much as curious as he looked to the large red 'V' tattooed on her left breast, over her heart. "V's your favorite letter, is it?"

"It's a five." She answered flatly as his gaze lingered. She could have been flattered—her modestly small breasts weren't a stunner, although her slim physique gave her a flat stomach, with enough definition to show the outline of her abs. But she knew, even if that was his intention, it was more due to the fact he had ingested her blood than anything else. She knew the effects it had on vampires, adding to their strength just being one of the virtues it extoled.

His eyebrows raised slightly, lips pursed in another show of amusement, his pale eyes glinting as he sat back in his chair. He rested his palms on his knees, and she saw that more of her blood covered his pale skin. He obviously wasn't a germophobe, being peculiar around blood, but she supposed being a vampire made that unnecessary. They certainly weren't picky about what blood they ingested. She took the opportunity to wrap the pieces of her shirt back in front of her chest, giving her some comfort. Spike's eyes gave her body one more long look before returning his gaze back to her face, no shame in his expression.

"So you knew I was a vampire, so you felt compelled to save me. But isn't that the exact opposite of your job description, Slayer?"

"Benefit of the doubt?" Jade answered back, her expression impassive. He didn't need to know how she did or didn't do her 'job'. That she was passive in the eyes of other slayers, that is if she had let herself run into them. She avoided them, as she did most people. She lived in Haven for a reason, which had more demons or mystically influenced people than it did normal people.

"Aw, aren't you a special little Slayer. Find all things need saving, do you? Would you have given witch-bitch a hug then, maybe over a cup of tea try to persuade her to take all the little kiddies into a hell-dimension?" He was haughty, and if she had seen guilt in his eyes when he was bandaging her up, it was gone now. It didn't matter to her. She didn't want his sympathy. Nor did she want his superior look, as if he thought her too scared to take on vampires like she was supposed to. She could, and she had. But she wouldn't seek them out, wouldn't stand over their graves with a stake in hand. She'd ignore them until they forced her attention. It was the way in Haven, and she preferred it.

"I just didn't find it necessary to kill you on sight."

He laughed. "Found it necessary to push me out of the way, didn't you? Got yourself all shot up like a dart-board."

"You're welcome."

He narrowed his eyes then, the humor leaking from his face, unimpressed by Jade's own lackadaisical manner. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jade beat him to it. She felt weary, exhausted. She wasn't interested in a battle of wits with him, because she was sure she'd lose. She couldn't think fast enough, didn't want his judgement. "Could I have some water?" She asked, and he shrugged.

"Yeah, 'spose." He pushed off from his chair, towering over the bed before turning away. Her eyes followed him, turning for once to the room. She had barely looked at her surroundings since she had woken, most of her attention centered on him. Terrible Slayer indeed. It was an open room, the bed on one wall, and at the foot of it, the tv turned in the other direction, surrounded by a loveseat and a sofa chair. There wasn't much of a kitchen, a sink, cupboards, and a fridge. No stove, and an old microwave sitting upon the counter. There was one door in the corner of the room which she assumed was the bathroom, and a closet beside it. She didn't recognize the building from its interior, but it was no high-rent flat. It reminded Jade of the apartment she shared with Lyth, although hers had rooms, and was somewhat more appealing, without so many cob-webs and cracks in the walls. She watched Spike reach into one of the cupboards and pull out a jar, and her attention was momentarily diverted when she was reminded of her phone. It would have been in her jacket, which she no longer wore. She glanced around the room again, then saw it draped on the couch, next to Spike's black leather jacket.

Jade winced, but she had to have her phone, to see if there were any calls from Eddie and Lyth. Lyth, Lyth would definitely be pissed. Jade had asked her to babysit for the night, and who knew when it was now. Jade heard the tap of water begin spraying, and with a side thought that it was lucky enough he actually had water, though how filtered it would be was anyone's guess. She pushed herself up into a sitting position again, albeit slowly, the pain in her stomach like hot pokers. She shuddered, her muscles tensing with the agony, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Grunting, she tentatively lowered herself onto her feet, the pain in her ankle flaring for the first time, but it was bearable. She made her way over to her coat, using the bed as support.

"The hell, woman. You're going to bleed through those bandages. Just sit down, will you, and I'll get whatever is so important."

The voice came from behind her, surprising her as she looked over her shoulder, seeing him there. She had lost concentration after hearing the water running, not even noticing it stopped in her forced journey across the room. She was gripping her stomach with her injured arm, though that wound was the least of her wood splinters. "Needed my phone. I'm guessing it's not still night time."

"Morning. Afternoon." Spike corrected, shrugging as he reached her jacket before she did, picking it off the couch and tossing it at her. She caught it easily with her uninjured arm, pulling her phone from her pocket and letting the coat drop back onto the bed. She flipped her phone open, not quite able to contain a sigh. Dead. She closed it, slipping it back into her pocket, looking back up to see Spike closer, a step away. He moved quickly, quietly. It was the ways of a vampire, she knew. He didn't even breathe. Still, it had been a while since she had hunted any, and she was at a disadvantage. He reached out with the jar of water that was mostly clear. She didn't care, downing the offering in a few long gulps. She was thirsty, and low on blood. It would do.

"Thanks." She said as she downed it, wearily sitting back down on the edge of the bed. Laying down would be a better option she knew. Her slayer healing had saved her, but she still needed rest. She tossed the empty jar back to Spike, and he caught it just as casually. He was silent for a moment, and they looked back at each other, one breathing, one still.

"What now, crumpet?"

"Got to find those kids. And Fyora. 'Job's' not done yet."

He looked at her, incredulous. "You're full of holes. What are you going to do, waltz into a hell-dimension, hope it's the right one and let your friend push you down some stairs? Because let me tell you, it's not as fun as it looks."

"I've got to try something. I don't know what. And you? Your job done now that you watched the kids get hauled off?"

"Hey." He said in a lower tone, his expression darkening. "I tried, alright? Ms. Luke Skywalker and her force powers were a little more than I was expecting."

"And what were you expecting?"

"Some bloody magic source or something I could just pick up or destroy. Not hocus pocus crap. And no, for your information, I'm not 'done'. Your little slayer pals are set to be here today, where I imagine I'll get yelled at for not doing my part and pulled along until this damn thing is over."

"You work with the slayers, then?" Jade asked, frowning, suddenly nervous by the concept that there would be others, here. Today. It wasn't as if she could disappear before they got here. She wasn't afraid of them, not exactly, but speaking with them was a situation she wanted to avoid. Especially now, when she still felt dehydrated and weak, not wishing to be drained even more by her anxiety.

"Yes, I know. A vampire with your buddies. But I've been with them probably longer than you. Not something to boast about," He muttered the last part under his breath, rolling his eyes and wincing with chagrin.

"I'm not."

"Not what? A slayer, because I think we covered that part already. You are definitely a girl wonder. From the blood tasting, not the antics."

"No, I mean. I'm not with the Slayers. The Slayer organization, or whatever they're calling themselves."

His eyebrows raised, slow surprise spreading over his face. "Oh. Oh! So you didn't know about the whole mission then. Just stumbled upon it. Well, here's your lucky day. Front row tickets to slayer central."

"I don't want to be." Jade muttered before she could help herself. It was a offhanded comment, made under her breath, but she latently remembered Vampires had excellent hearing. Spike was frowning at her, confusion in his expression. "Look, I just want to help the kids. If the Slayers are interested, then I'll help, by all means. I'm not joining, I just want the kids safe, and I'll head back to Haven and stay out of your—all of your way."

"I thought you weren't a kid person. You seem awfully protective." The surprise had passed, and he took the moment to light a cigarette, placing it between his lips. Jade frowned, looking at her own jacket, but the pocket where her smokes should be was empty.

"Do you have another?" She asked, motioning to the cigarette. He shrugged a positive, fishing another out of the box and handing it to her. She balanced it between her fingers as he leaned in towards her. The tightness in her chest returned at his proximity, and didn't relent until her cigarette was lit and he stepped back. "It's just… something I got to do. They deserve better. And Fyora, well. She deserves worse. I should be there for that. I need to be there for that." She added, after a long drag of breath.

"Got a thirst for vengeance, do you? You avoid killing vampires and seek out the humans. Not that I blame you. Be mighty glad to see get knocked about a bit."

Jade scoffed, the closest she could get to a laugh without her stomach crying out in pain. "Profiling me, are you?"

"I already got you pegged for childhood depression and daddy issues."

"Not quite. Dad's been dead for a while."

"Thus the issue." Spike answered brightly, as if proud of himself.

She shook her head with some exasperation. He was a long ways off, and she wasn't about to correct him letter by letter. She opened her mouth to speak when suddenly there was a loud rapping at the door. Spike spun his head around, letting his shoulders roll in a shrug. "That must be the cavalry. You talk to them about your side-gig bit, but don't be too hopeful. Bunch of amazon ladies don't really take to anything but seniority. And most of them are bitches." Shaking his head, he ambled over to the door, while Jade watched the back of him, her breath caught in her throat. She found an ash-tray, snuffing out her cigarette, out of place next to the little stubs beside it, but in her nervousness, she couldn't concentrate on it any more. She was about to meet slayers, for the first time. First she had been held back from them because she wasn't deemed ready, and through those experiences, she avoided them as a whole. She knew about them of course, the more well-known of them, but she doubted they'd be here. And here she was, to convince them she wanted to help. For this one deal. Spike was still lamenting the existence of slayers—way too eagerly—as he crossed to the door. He wrenched it open, but words immediately died on his lips as he saw the one who stood there, in his doorway.

"Buffy?"


	7. Chapter 6

**6**

There she was, standing in his doorway. He always had that fleeting hope, that she was there because she wanted to be there. That she had made some sort of choice, finally, but as it so often was, she was here because she wanted something. For him to help her in her never-ending quest. Spike, the little go-to puppy. She had his loyalty, his devotion, and she pulled no punches in utilizing it. He'd finally come to that conclusion, that that was all he was getting from her. It had hit him hard, when he finally learned that and left. That had only been a couple months ago, and his distance from her didn't make it any easier seeing her now. He didn't know what to feel. Happiness, anger, relief, confusion, he felt it all. He blamed her for a lot of things, for his unhappiness, so much it had been twisting him up inside. He was her 'champion', something noble, but he had wanted more from her. Still did. And she hadn't felt the same way, or least she went all Buffy about it,

After he had died, came back as a ghost, and stuck in Los Angeles, all he had wanted was to see her again. He thought maybe if he could, they could finally have something. A real something, more than just sex, just friendship and just mocking jibes. But when he did find her, she was in the middle of some fight—like she always was. He remembered her telling him that she had known he was alive for a quite some time, but had been too busy to see him before then. He remembered shrugging it off, the ever-hopeful puppy, willing to be her effervescent slave, just for a spot of her attention. It was crushing him, his devotion, longing for every light touch she gave him, reading into every lingering glance. He was always hoping, thinking that it might change, that she might realise how she felt about him. He had told her how he felt all the time. He had always been open. But she had only told him once, before he was about to die. And any hope he had that maybe they could just take it where they left off was sadly adjourned. There was always some crisis, some excuse that they couldn't be together. Finally, it had been enough. It was messing up Spike inside, and so he had left. In all reality, Buffy had left first, to whatever fight called her, and so he had slipped out of the din. Found himself in little Haven, where some obscurity was nice, and he could avoid the merry band of Slayers, who had sprung up all over the place, like bunnies.

And here, where he expected to meet one the least, there she was. He supposed Haven was a ripe-town for demon hunters, seeing as there were so many, and someone who killed vampires could have a splendid old time. But in the time he had been here, he hadn't heard a whisper about her, which didn't seem to go with the normal drama queen slayer persona. Her desire to hunt down the people who stole the children had reverted back to the normal expected martyr-dom, and that lingering wish for death he could almost just smell on her. Definitely fit the slayer bill. He doubted her solo act would stand long after she was introduced to the Slayerettes. Something about the big fights and dangers that was so damn euphoric to the woman gladiators, as soon as she got a taste she'd pack up shop out of mystic little Haven and join the fight. Slayers liked the fight better than they liked being alone. It was the only way it made sense, that Buffy and her little friends had made up their network of Slayers, despite them all being lone wolf narcissists. Offer them something to punch and they went wild. And here before him, she was the genuine article.

She stood a few inches above five feet—not unlike Jade, he had grudgingly observed—but with blonde hair, that beautiful goldilocks hair he had crushed between his fingers more than once. He could still remember the feel, the silky caress of it. And those eyes, those large eyes sparkling and green, that had the power of making him feel a whole lot of things. Mostly shame, she had a flair for harsh scrutiny. And that half smile, playing on her lips, and the power that radiated through her small, very hot body. They could have been quite a team, if she wanted to be. But that'd be too easy, wouldn't it. Love was endlessly frustrating. Not to mention torment, and he found looking at her that he hadn't been quite ready to experience it so soon. Maybe after a couple more decades or so, that'd do him.

"Honey, I'm home." She smiled that cloying smile, no pain or remorse or _anything_ remotely similar to the agony he was feeling, just seeing her again. Damn, it just wasn't fair. Love's bitch indeed, he was all squeamish like a little lovesick puppy, and if he did have breath, well she'd take it away. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" She asked innocently after a heartbeat of silence.

"Last I remember, you didn't need one," He spoke, after he regained his voice, his lips lightly pursed and eyebrows raised. She flounced around him then, her shoulder brushing his as she stepped through the doorway. "Just being polite," she said in a saccharine tone, reveling in her bubbly, teasing personality that she visited less and less as the years had gone by, before she had turned into Mama General of the slayer soldiers. Any second now, it'd melt away and she'd be all business, tugging on Spike's leash. He knew her to a peach, he did. And it was true he loved every inch of that infernal woman, every speck about her. But that didn't mean he couldn't hate her too, sometimes.

"We just came from one of the other zones, but they'd already gone long before we got there. Did you follow Willow's instructions?" Already, her expeditious journey into the mission. That was all that mattered to her, all that ever did.

"I did. Got there just in time to see them haul the goods off into the thou-shalt-not pass dimension."

"So you couldn't stop them?" Alarm flickered over her face, a frown settling on her features. "How—" Her eyes finally flickered to the back end of the room, where Jade lingered. She had been silent during the exchange, but at some point had pulled herself to her feet, where she tottered by the bed. One hand gripped the remnants of her torn, blood-soaked shirt, covering her pale skin. He supposed he could have offered her a shirt before then, but it hadn't occurred to him, and she hadn't asked. And the peeks were nice. It had been a while since he had been with a woman, and though it sure as hell would had sped along his recovery from Buffy, he always felt so damn guilty about it that it was few and far between. Damn having a conscience. He should have been screwing everything that moved, but all he could think about Buffy, how she felt beneath him, and not some inferior mimic.

"You couldn't wait to get distracted until _after_ you stopped the Order?" Buffy snapped her head back towards Spike, her blonde hair whipping with her speed. "I can't believe this. Spike, this was important."

"Hey, I said I tried alright. Not much I could do against mystical mojo, now can I?"

"No, but by all means, feel free to celebrate your failure." She shrugged her shoulders. She might no longer have worn her carefree, teenager clothes, appropriating beige dress pants, a fancy looking white top and a black suit jacket top, but the twinges of her jealousy were surfacing. At another time, Spike might have felt proud of himself, but as in all times that he succeeded making her jealous, he just felt bad about it after, knowing he could hurt her. It's probably why he did it, to prove she felt something. Although this time, it was unintentional. He looked back at the wounded Slayer. She was pale from her loss of blood, deep circles under her eyes. He could see now that they were a bright blue, and the lack of color in her pallid skin pronounced the red in her lips and the flush on her cheeks. Her brown hair was long pulled from whatever ponytail it had been in, tumbling down her shoulders in disarray. It definitely looked like they had been having fun, if the fact that she was full of holes and pale as a sheet was discarded.

"It's not as if people will get hurt because of it." She continued. Buffy was never one to pull punches, even to the people she supposedly liked. She didn't appreciate anyone getting in her way, and listening, definitely not a strong suit. He was expected to flinch at failure, but didn't, arching an eyebrow and looking back at her impassively.

"Jumping to conclusions a bit, are you? Not that I couldn't. You know, if I wanted to." Spike added, a little defensively. She didn't have to know about his sad lack of a sex life, no she did not. In fact, just keep that jealousy rolling. He was fine with that. Let her ruminate in it a little, realise how much she missed him.

"I'm Jade." Jade interjected, her voice cutting through the air casually, no expression on her face, but Spike saw how her lips were pinched tight together, and she fought to stand still. Buffy didn't even look back towards her.

"That's great." She spoke in a mock high voice, choosing to ignore who she figured was Spike's 'fling'. "I'm Buffy."

"I know who you are."

"Oh, you do, do you? He doesn't have you dress up as me, does he? Because he's done that, you know." Buffy said, turning towards the woman, who looked back at her in the same steady gaze. "And with a robot."

"Now, let's not get into that." Spike interrupted. He really did miss that Buffybot. Not her exuberant personality, but the other things were nice.

"I think there are more important things to worry about. Like this 'Order'?" A sarcastic tone inched her way into Jade's voice, defensive.

"Oh, you took her along, did you? Maybe that's why they got away?"

"I was there on my own."

"Oh, were you?" Buffy asked with some incredulity.

"She's, she's a Slayer, love." Spike muttered. "She was following them. Power Sources, by the way. Not gems. Flesh and blood little children. Which would have been a hell of a nice thing to know about."

"A Slayer?" Buffy echoed. "I didn't know there were any here."

"I keep to myself." Jade supplied, ignoring Buffy's answering eye-roll as she looked towards Spike. "I was following one of the 'Order', or whatever, a caretaker of the Orphanage here. She took five children, loaded them up in the van. She met another, there, and the two of them opened up a portal. It took the children, and them. I got hurt, they trapped us here, and left. Don't know where they went."

"We're working on it. We hoped to stop them _before_ they made it through, but I guess we'll have to rethink it." Buffy sighed, looking back to Spike. "We'll make the trip to San Francisco now. Willow's working with the Coven. We'll tell them what we know, and hopefully unravel this mess." She looked back towards Jade. "You stay here. I'll have one of the other teams pick you up when we have time, add you to the ranks. If you can handle it."

"No." Jade said, as Buffy was already turning away. The blonde stopped, narrowing her green eyes as she looked back at the other slayer. "I'm not interested in joining. I'll come with you, now. I know the children, and I want to get them back. That's it."

Buffy laughed, shaking her head, while Spike shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Buffy seemed on a short string today, itching for a fight. "That's not how it works around here."

"I have the inside scoop." Jade declared, her hand leaving the support of the bed as she stepped away from it, slowly.

"You can barely stand," Buffy retorted, having now noticed the blood, both on her arm, and what could be glimpsed through the rips in her shirt. "Looks like you're out of this fight."

"Look. I just want to help. These power sources, or whatever, they are kids. And I know them. They don't deserve this. I'll stay out of the way. But I want to be there, when it goes down."

"Buffy, love, perhaps she can help." Spike spoke up, though not too many minutes ago he was having the same doubts himself. She had been hurt, badly, the mystery slayer. But her strength through the pain was commendable, keeping clear-headed and cool despite the blood running out of her veins. If she worked to give him her blood, they'd still be chained up in that building. She'd be dead, but she was alive now, as evident by her blazing blue eyes. Her body was weak, but her spirit, at least, seemed somewhat resilient.

"Shut up, Spike." Buffy snapped. "Look. You're not in any condition to do anything. You wouldn't last two minutes in a fight."

"You'd be surprised." Jade spoke as she ambled her way over to the two of them, disregarding Buffy's scoff.

"Fine. Let's put it to the test, shall we. If you're not unconscious in two minutes of fighting with me, you can come."

"Buffy." Spike's warning growl sounded, which the blonde ignored, looking haughtily back at Jade.

"Deal." Jade acquiesced.

"Okay, then." Buffy spoke in a sickly-sweet voice, glancing down at her watch. "And. Now."

Spike shook his head, frustrated, as the two slayers began to circle each other. They were going to destroy his apartment. If Buffy didn't beat the already wounded Slayer to a bloody pulp first. Probably both.


	8. Chapter 7

**7**

Slayer stubbornness and arrogance. It seemed pretty inherent to her, despite her choices to try to leave that all behind. And it was the reason for now, a showdown with the most senior, easily strongest slayer in the world. Buffy Summers. Jade had been told about her, had been educated, at least loosely. She'd been aware of them, and after all the Potentials in the world had been activated, Jade knew that they were being gathered, for the Slayer Organization. And after Jade had turned from her slayer ways, she had run in the other direction. Which she should be doing now, let Buffy leave with Spike, as she wanted to do, and return home to her apartment. Have a long shower, wash the blood off that caked her skin, lie in bed until her body didn't hurt so badly. But what was she still doing here for? Duty? She'd thrown that off a while ago, and she was in no hurry to go slinking back. For the children? When she was around them she could barely stand them. She avoided them, both in her mind and her physical presence. She hadn't given a damn about them before today. Because of her dream? Far as she knew, the same one wouldn't keep recurring. Why not just hit the snooze then, let someone else worry about it. Was it that slayer arrogance again, assuming she needed to be apart of this because she was the one who dreamt it? Maybe they all dreamt it. Maybe there was nothing special about her, nothing at all, no reason to fight this fight.

For the rush, then? She felt it now, the inevitable adrenaline pumping through her veins as she stared back at Buffy. Buffy the venerable Slayer, who walked in here with a heap of sass and a lack of patience. Perhaps that was what they were all like. Fast talking egotists who liked flaunting their strength. And Jade definitely felt a lack of that right now. She hadn't hurt like this in so long. The wooden splinters that could have ended her a lot quicker if they had hit something vital had sunk into her with such simple finesse, ripping through her skin and compassing her body with ripples of pain. She'd been invaded, again, by agony. She thought if she had turned and ran from the Slayer life maybe she could avoid it. Lie low, for the rest of her life. Never feel like this again. Fat chance, apparently.

But maybe that was a good thing. Her heart beat solidly beneath her breast, her tattooed chest, the emblazoned red 'V' that became visible when she let go of her tattered shirt, raising both of her fists to match Buffy's. The blonde had it out for someone, today, that was for sure, and Jade was going to be the unlucky duck that waltzed in. But groveling wasn't her style, even now. A Slayer thing, or her, she didn't know. Her stomach throbbed, acute agony that pierced her. She had one hand tied behind her back before they even began. _Come on, Jade_ , she berated herself. She had felt worse than this, fought with worse than this, even if she was out of practice. Her chest had began to rise and fall erratically as she circled slowly, the two slayers stepping in a slow circle, knowing Buffy wasn't going to waste much more time left in her two minutes of grace. Jade was slow, clumsy. Her ankle began to throb traitorously, the least of her wounds, but complaining at her heavy steps, the rotation of her feet.

She focused instead on Buffy. The woman, a few years older than her, stood roughly equal in height. Her blonde hair was pulled back, for the most part, a few choice strands falling in front of her face flawlessly. Jade was made aware of how her own hair had become a long, tangled mess since it was freed from its ponytail, uncombed and wild, loose pieces falling in front of her face in a detrimental manner rather than an elegant one. Buffy's hair didn't fall far past her shoulders, but Jade's would reach her belly button if she let it lay flat, a dark brown, long and inherently curly. They weren't exactly opposites, but Jade was distinctly aware of Buffy's comeliness, her bright, commanding green eyes and determined expression, sleek, arching eyebrows and her small but delicately shaped mouth. An unimpressed smirk had wormed its way onto Buffy's expression, sharing with the bored look in her eyes.

No wonder for Spike's attraction. That had been overtly obvious from the moment the blonde Slayer had shown up. Jade had only seen a few sides to Spike so far, a dark humor and a deadly seriousness, but that was something she could only describe as… well. Lovesick came to mind, injured and far from over her. His eyes trailed Buffy still, and despite the irritation flashing on his face, he had quieted when she snapped at him to. But as Jade glanced at him with her peripheral, she saw him make the visible effort to change his mood, forcing a shrug as he pulled another cigarette and lit it, feigning nonchalance. He wasn't going to step in.

That was okay.

"It's nothing personal," Buffy assured her. "I've just had a re-eally long day. I'm sick to death of Rogue Slayers. Sorry about this, but I got things to do."

"I'm not—" The grace period was over. Soon as the words barely left Jade's lips, the other slayer crossed the small space between them and aimed one hearty kick that hit its mark.

Jade flew across the room, just barely missing the tv as she slammed into the wall. Jade gasped with surprise, falling to her knees. She really hadn't expected Buffy to choose her weakness first. She felt to her knees, gripping at her stomach, feeling as if it had caved in on her.

"Buffy!" Spike reprimanded roughly.

"What? I told you. I don't have time for this. Besides, she'll live. Slayers are tough." Buffy said, turning away from Jade to look at the platinum-blonde Vampire.

"You put a crack in my wall."

"Oops."

Jade leaned her head back, feeling it scrape against the wall. Ow. So that was the power of a Slayer's kick. She'd done her own, but she'd never been on the receiving end of it before. It hurt. Her whole body hurt, and blackness threatened her vision. She was blood-deprived, wounded, and now her ribs felt as if they were going to bend inward and pierce all her organs.

 _Come on_ , Her mind told her. _This isn't the worst you've been hurt_.

She didn't know if that was true. Oh, she'd had her share of beatings. They weren't administered by a Slayer's hand, but they had hurt. All over. And she had almost forgotten how it had felt. _Put it away_ , the whisper told her. She was a Slayer. Getting the absolute shit kicked out of her and still managing to give some back was part of the package deal.

She rose to her feet. She watched Buffy swing her face back towards her. There was some sympathy buried in her green gaze, so deep she almost missed it, but it was the same look that was given to homeless people on the street. 'Aw, that sucks, but there's nothing I'm going to do for you.' "Don't do it."

"How many seconds left?" Jade asked. She felt something sticky beneath the hand that gripped at her stomach. She raised it in front of her, seeing the fresh blood that stained her pale skin. Well, at least she still _had_ some blood left in her body. That was a plus.

"Too many."

"Better not waste 'em, then." Tough talk wasn't her thin. No talk was better, or a couple of words. She wasn't very articulate. But she had to convince Buffy she was in the game, or the blonde wouldn't even consider her worth playing with anymore. And she had to earn her way for this. She still didn't know what motivated her. The kids, Slayer arrogance, good guy persona, or boredom. But there was something, and she'd find out what.

Jade couldn't wait to take another kick from Buffy—especially since the last one felt like the blonde had held back a little. She launched herself forward, bringing herself into closer range, vying for fisticuffs rather than kicks, but there was no way to avoid the latter. She was slow, her strikes being slapped away by Buffy's quicker reflexes, unable to land blows of her own, and taking an elbow to the face in recompense. She staggered back, but as Buffy aimed another kick at her, Jade grabbed her by the ankle and swung her towards the kitchen. Buffy hit the fridge, and Jade's empty jar of water toppled from where it perched on the counter, falling towards the ground and smashing into tiny pieces.

"Oi! You better clean up after this," came Spike's exclamation, helpful as his other outbursts had been.

Jade massaged her sore jaw as Buffy shook herself, a smirk on her lips. "Nice throw," She said brightly, launching herself back towards Jade. She narrowly missed Buffy's next flip, jumping to the couch to avoid the blow. The TV, however, wasn't as fortunate, crashing to the floor. Jade caught a glimpse at Spike, whose mouth had dropped open, the cigarette falling to the floor. "My telly! You broke my telly. Bloody Slayers."

Buffy let out a short laugh, and Jade almost smiled, before leaping from the couch to jump towards Buffy. They rejoined in a flurry of kicks and punches, and though Jade's speed increased from the clumsy fighting in the beginning, her body was beginning to hurt, something that simply ignoring it wasn't going to help. She took another strike in the shoulder, a kick to her leg that had her falling to her knee before she rolled out of the way of Buffy's next kick. Her chest was heaving, breath coming harder to her. The remnants of her shirt were annoying, proceeding to get in her way, so she had shrugged out of it, her chest covered only by her bra. She resisted the urge to glance down and look at her wounds, knowing Buffy wouldn't give her the chance.

"I'm not a Rogue Slayer." Jade panted, inbetween trading blows with the blonde.

"You're not on our side and don't want to be. What else would you call yourself?" Buffy questioned, blocking Jade's elbow and shoving her back with a open palm to her chest.

"Out of commission?"

"Temporarily or definite? Because being a Slayer doesn't just go away. And the fight doesn't stop because you do."

"Know that from experience, do you?"

Buffy's whirling foot caught Jade on the other side of her face, causing the brunette woman to spin by the force of it, and Jade fell to the ground, landing on her elbows as she stared up at the peeved blonde. Who apparently didn't like observations. But the way the older Slayer spoke _had_ been personal, and she had struck with vehemence. Buffy towered over her, preparing to strike again, when an arm wrapped around her to pull her back. The blonde recoiled immediately, though Spike's hand still enveloped her wrist.

"Let _go_ , Spike."

"Time's up, Buff." He spoke gentler now, than the exasperation he had shown when his apartment was being trashed. And there were quite a few splinters of things, the two Slayers had been no more gentler to their surroundings than each other. "Two minutes."

Buffy glanced at her watch, encircled by Spike's thumb. She looked down at Jade, who still crouched on the ground. Indecision crossed her face for a heartbeat, irritation and then acceptance. She shrugged her way out of Spike's grip, glaring at him intently until he reluctantly took a step backwards. Even Jade couldn't ignore the tension radiating between the two of them, and the stares they exchanged were immense. But Buffy looked at the downed Slayer, offering her a hand. Biting back a wince, Jade accepted it with her unwounded arm, though they were both beginning to feel sore. She was pulled to her feet, albeit shakily, where she stood, warily.

"Nice fight." Buffy said as casually as if they just had a business discussion and she was congratulating Jade on her wiles and not her bruises. But now, as the fight was ebbing, her adrenaline along with it, Jade felt subdued, pain crawling back into her system with vehemence. "Fine. You come with us now. Maybe you do have some helpful information on the kids. I hope so. I would hate to see you put them in danger because you insisted being a part of this in your condition." The blonde couldn't resist turning snarky in her last remark. Jade had a feeling that Buffy hated the loss of control, even as little to a degree as this, and the fact that her original plan wouldn't be carried out was smarting. But it didn't matter. It was what Jade had wanted. She wouldn't sit in the sidelines and have someone else carry out her battle. She had seen this in her dreams, and there was a reason for that. "Let's go." Buffy reiterated, without waiting for Jade's reply, flouncing towards the doorway. She glanced once at Spike as she did, smiling sweetly. "After this is over, I'll send you a bill for the damage, okay?"


	9. Chapter 8

**8**

 _I'll send you a bill for the damage, okay_? He could just wipe that smarmy little grin off of her face. She didn't feel a damn bit of remorse at all. Those little lips quirking into a smirk normally had his insides all twisting, but the bloody woman had just turned his flat into a destruction zone. Glass, wood splinters—which were _not_ kind to his health—and a smoking box that used to be his telly. Slayers. Buffy in particular, the snobbiest chosen one he ever had the misfortune of meeting. And the way she just walked into his unlife on a little whim. Think she could just waltz in here and curve her little finger and he'd come running. Except he was. He had already gravitated after her a few steps before he realised he was doing it. Jade was still standing behind him, gripping at her stomach. It was all well and good he didn't look back at her, back at the crimson lines running down her skin. He could _smell_ it though, reminiscent of that sweet, indulging taste. The pig's blood he had stored in his fridge didn't help with that craving much, although he sidestepped over there to pull a jar from the fridge, stuffing it into the deep pocket of his black duster coat. Little snack on the way, Buffy's headquarters in San Francisco was not a short trip, at least a five hour drive. He tried not to groan at the thought, as he watched Jade in his peripheral. She slowly stepped to the couch, hesitantly picking up her jacket and backpack. She had shrugged off the torn pieces of her shirt during the tussle, and he appreciated the view of her now. Covered in blood—he appreciated that of most women. At least, he used to. Not as much anymore. But she was slim, clad in her tan colored bra and blood droplets that stained their way past her bellybutton and down to the top of her jeans.

"Here." He said, and her gaze looked up, as she was curling the jacket under her arm. She looked up, and he pulled the first shirt from his clothes drawer. It hadn't quite escaped the ruffle, a piece of the top wood was broken off, as it sat beside the couch, but it had fared better than his TV. He threw her the shirt. It was larger, looser than the t-shirt she had been wearing, and was a dark black. Her expression was sober, but she nodded with gratefulness. He turned from her then, heading up the stairs where Buffy had disappeared. This apartment building wasn't exactly a glamorous one, but the rent wasn't all that bad. It was a demon-hole, for the most part, but there weren't too many explosions or grisly decapitations to make note of. There was a tender balance in Haven between chaos and peace. It wasn't just demon vs humans, which was probably why Haven existed without being a blood bath. Far too many players made sides impossible. It was a tenuous strain, but Spike was starting to like it. No badness or goodness, just a place for him to kick his feet up and relax. Hell, he hadn't even paid his rent since he'd been there, poker nights with the landlord made sure of that. It was simpler, and he liked it, instead of this save the world crap Buffy was always hurling after him. How many times did he have to save it anyway, before he got a break. A good one, not these little halfsies he kept getting teased with.

He looked over once more at his apartment, muttering a "Bugger" underneath his breath. What a mess. Jade stepped out into the hallway, and he closed the door behind her, without bothering to lock the damn thing. Nothing in there of value now. He watched Jade as she looked down the dilapidated hallway.

"I don't remember seeing any of this before." She commented, as they made their way down the hall and up the stairs. She was leaning heavily towards the wall, and he noticed her relief when she reached the handrail—letting go of it just as quickly when she saw it wasn't enough to hold her weight at all, hanging dangerously off of its mount. So it wasn't a particularly well-made building. He wasn't Angel, he didn't live in the high digs of fancy penthouses.

"Well, you were rather unconscious darling." He drawled. "Holes in you will do that. Didn't stop you from going one on one with Black Mamba."

"Yeah." Jade winced. "Sorry about your place." She looked at him, sympathy in her blue eyes, but he shrugged.

"Nothing can do about it now." They stepped up the stairs in silence, up to the entrance where Buffy was standing, waiting. She held the door open already, and the bright lines of sunlight were very visible. With a sigh, he pulled his jacket up over his head. He definitely couldn't be riding his bike there, he'd burst into flames long before that. He'd often had people point out how riding a motorcycle limited him to the night if he wanted wheels, but hell, vampires should be used to it by now. Tinted windows were a luxury they sure as hell didn't have fifty years ago. Besides, he looked cool as hell.

As he stepped into the sunlight, he grit his teeth at the starting sizzle. But there, at the sidewalk sat a van, a black Volkswagen Transporter type. "In the back," Buffy directed them, stepping to the front passenger seat. Spike didn't waste time, stepping to the back of the van before Jade did, stepping into the back as two girls opened the doors. The girls quickly backed off to the other end of the van, closer to the front. There was no seats in the back of the van, a couple of blankets and a _lot_ of weapons. He rested on the carpeted floor, letting his jacket fall back off of his head as he sat back in the shadows, relieved. Yeah, so he was an older vampire and didn't quite burst into flames in a second, but that didn't mean he liked cooking. Jade appeared at the back of the vehicle, taciturn as she glanced at the slight step-up she'd have to make. Pursing his lips together, he extended his hand for her.

"Thanks." Her mask twisted for a brief second of pain, her strong grasp evident on his fingers as she stepped up into the van. With a relieved sigh, she rested her back to the other side of the van, and after an order from front, the two closed the doors and the van started up. They heard Buffy's voice, but she was speaking on to the phone. No doubt to Willow, although the roar of the engines and sitting at the back of the van made it hard for even Spike's remarkable hearing to pick it up.

"Yeah, no. He didn't get it. The sources, though. They're children. Work on what you have, and we'll be there in a couple hours." Buffy's voice continued, and Spike glanced sideways at the two girls in the back of the van with them. He didn't recognize them or the one driving, but he had little doubt that they were Slayers. Slayers everywhere. They seemed young, even younger than Jade, but it was hard to tell how old the wounded slayer was. She was leaned back against the van as it moved now, her eyes closed, trying not to grimace at each bump the vehicle experienced.

"You're Spike." One of the young Slayers spoke after a couple of heartbeats. She was Indian, with caramel colored skin and brown hair pulled into a bun. She wore rings of makeup around her eyes, dark eyeliner and mascara, with bright red lips that were pulled into a smile as she looked at him with awe and intrigue. Her companion was just as young, a much lighter blonde with blue eyes, who openly stared at him, except whenever he made eye contact. "I'm Samah, and this is Ashley." Ashley smiled and waved shyly. Spike bit back a sigh. Great, fangirls. This was going to be a long trip.

"Right. Pleasure. Do you kiddies have a first aid kit around or something?" There were crates of things, but he wasn't about to look through them himself. He saw the back of Buffy's head bob up and down as she continued to speak in the phone. She hadn't even looked back at him once. Well, what did he care. He didn't care. Just ignore him then, that didn't matter. He was busy, that's what he was. Too busy to care about that.

"We've heard so much about you," Samah continued to gush, gesturing with her eyes to Ashley, who nodded vigorously and began looking through one of the crates. She pulled a first-aid box from it, which was snagged from her finger tips by Samah, giving Spike a coquettish smile as she handed him the box. "Are you hurt?" She asked with sympathy, and Spike raised his eyebrows with a sigh. They hadn't even looked to the half-conscious woman beside him, in fact their eyes had barely left him.

"Just a sizzle." He faintly heard Buffy's command of "Down, girls" though it was the voice of a stern commander, no hint of the jealousy she had displayed earlier. And she _had_ displayed it. But obviously, she didn't think much of the crushes of teenage girls. Spike looked across from him at the woman who had caused Buffy to lash out.

She wasn't pretty, in a traditional sense. Jade was naturally pale, even more so with her blood loss. Not so much as freckles, but a couple of darker blemishes, mostly on her cheek. She had a slim, oval shaped face. And there were so many colors in it, transparent under her pale skin. Her cheeks were a vivid red, most of the time, a dark purple under her eyes, yellow and green from the bruises Buffy had left on her sleek jawline. Her nose was thin, but round at the end. There was nothing particularly beautiful about her match of features, but her lips were full, a raspberry red, and when her eyes opened, her blue gaze was particularly mesmerizing. Unlike the two Slayers giggling and staring at him, she didn't have a speck of makeup on her skin, which attributed to her youthful appearance. But she looked weary now, and he could see the slight lines, noting she was at least twenty, though she could likely pass for younger than that. Her eyes were still closed, but as Spike opened the container and began to rifle through it for bandages, her eyes flickered open to watch him.

"Well you bled through the last bandages. So now I gotta do it all over again," He scoffed at the guilty gratitude in her expression, which disappeared at his words. She made a light face.

"It's alright. I deserve it. Arrogance."

"Just lift up your shirt, Bloody Mary." It was true, she'd gone and mucked up his last patch up job, but she was hurting, he could tell. In the old days he wouldn't give a damn, but things had changed. He wasn't going to let her wallow in hurt just because she felt she 'deserved' it. He looked at her, rising his eyebrows in impatience before she nodded. She shrugged out of her jacket, rolling up the shirt she had donned only moments before. It was black, like most—but not all—of his clothes were. She rolled it up to her chest, displaying her torso. She watched him, her eyes half-lidded, as he pulled the first bandage from her skin. It was bled through, though no longer fresh. It might actually heal up if Jade kept out of fights with Slayers. There was a dark bruise beside the wound, and he brushed it with his fingers. She shuddered in answer, her hands curling into fists.

"Your ribs might be broken," Spike told her.

"Just bruised. I know the difference."

"Get your ass kicked a lot, do you?" Not that Spike could talk. The beatings he had suffered over his unlife, well, they were a pain and a half. He had looked far worse than her, more than one. But, mortal wounds like the ones she had now weren't as life threatening to him as they were to her. Not unless it was a stake to his heart or his head removed, or set on fire.

"You could say that." She breathed shallowly, and there was no humor in her eyes. "You're getting plenty of practice with bandaging today."

"Isn't that the truth." He scoffed. This was turning into a regular chore for him. Since he had carried her into his apartment, he seemed to be stuck in the role of nursemaid.

"I appreciate it. Really."

"Save your appreciation. You owe me a new telly." The way he said it was sulky, like a teenager, and didn't exactly invoke the somber effect. Jade smiled unexpectedly, the first grin he'd seen on her.

"Deal. Not a big one, though. I'm not made of money."

"High bloody def."

Jade laughed that time, although it trailed off in a wince after Spike reapplied the bandage. "So you work for the Slayers, then? Or just Buffy?" She asked, after a moment's pause.

"I don't work for anyone. They occasionally bully me into wearing the white hat." He spoke shortly. Slayers and Buffy were the last things he wanted to talk about. Jade fell silent, her gaze searching his expression.

"I get that." She spoke after a moment, and he shrugged impassively. Yeah, she didn't seem overly wanting to go off and join the little slayer army, but she was here, wasn't she? For the one gig, but soon she'd see the whole operation and choose to stay. It was the always the same with those Slayer types. Spike redressed the rest of her wounds in silence, tossing the used bandages in a plastic bag enclosed within the first aid kit, closing it with a snap. Jade tugged her shirt back down, nodding gratefully towards Spike. He was hungry now, pulling the jar from his pocket. He hadn't had any blood since, well, Jade's. And that had only been a little taste. His mouth watered at the memory. Human blood was so much more satisfying than pig's blood, and slayer's blood, well that took it up a notch. He heard the disgusted gasp from the girls, a light 'ew' as he put the jar to his lips, drinking quite steadily despite the moving vehicle. What? He was hungry. And he was a vampire, damnit. It didn't matter if it was disturbing to others, it was damn well natural to him.

And he was always very fond of making a scene.


	10. Chapter 9

**9**

It wasn't the most comfortable seat in the world. In fact it wasn't a seat at all, just the kind-of carpeted bottom of an old van. And no seatbelt meant she was getting jarred around at every little turn. Still, a seatbelt would probably hurt more than it was worth, especially where it would strap her. And she was quite happy to be unrestricted, especially with how her upper body _hurt_. Buffy had struck her hard, even holding back a little. Her ribs definitely hurt, even with Spike's light touch skimming her skin. Her cheeks flushed a little, with the contact. There was an intimacy about him touching her bare skin, and she hadn't felt that intimacy in a long while.

Though it was definitely made less private by the two slayers sitting with them in the back of the vehicle. There wasn't much between them, only a few crates and a couple of feet, and they made no effort to hide their prying eyes. Still, where else would they look? And though Jade couldn't discern the words they spoke to each other, she could hear the impact of their whispers and giggles to each other. She was thankful to pull her shirt back down to cover herself. Though it was doubtful they were whispering much about her—or even cared to notice her with Spike sitting right there, she felt vulnerable, and shy. Perhaps that was due to Spike's presence as well, because he was certainly making her feel that way each time he came close, even when it was to help. And why was he helping her, still? Was it to make Buffy jealous? The blonde had certainly reacted to Jade being in Spike's apartment, and the gazes between the vampire and the slayer had not gone amiss. Definitely a history then, but as Jade even tried to approach it, Spike had shut down. He covered his discomfort with humor or anger, but now he was simply quiet, and Jade regretted she had inadvertently ended their smalltalk by starting with something Spike didn't want to discuss. She had sounded judgemental about it too, hadn't she. But she was simply curious. Certainly it fell into her theory, but she didn't have the whole story, and she wanted to.

But he was slurping his blood with vehemence, and she saw the expression on the girls' face, which had turned from admiration to displeasure. Jade brushed the strands of hair from her face, searching in her backpack for a hairband, with which she pulled her hair into a bun, grateful to have it finally away from her face. She was missing a few things though, the bow she had dropped at the stone building, as well as her motorcycle. She definitely had to go back for those things, at least the latter. When this was all over. After she met the rest of the gang, she supposed, and convinced them to let her fight this, to bring those kids back. She looked back at the teenage girls, who were still murmuring among themselves.

"So you're Slayers, then?" Jade broke in, and the girls stopped uncertainly, tearing their eyes away from Spike to look at her reluctantly. The one named Ashley nodded her head, while Samar smiled more proudly.

"That's right."

"You seem sort of young…"

"I'm not young. I'm almost seventeen. Ashley's turning seventeen just a couple months after that. And we've been at the Slayer Institution for over a year now, after Xander found us. We've lived with the San Francisco group ever since."

"You left home?"

"Of course. Duty over security, you know?"

"That, and our parents live just ten minutes away on the other side of the city. I go to her parent's for Sunday night dinners." Ashley chirped up for the first time, cowering a little under Samar's answering glower.

"And who's Xander?" Jade asked, in distraction and curiosity.

The both of them smiled, Ashley a little more dreamily. "He's a Watcher," the blonde answered, while Samar rolled her eyes.

"She was heartbroken when he moved to the Toronto Squad with Dawn."

"Was not," Ashley protested.

"So you've been with the Slayers for a year then?" Jade was starting to feel older already, The sad part was, it reminded her of the few times she had been at the orphanage. The children loved to vie for attention. Neva, the most. Not because the young girl particularly needed attention, but she had taken to Jade with a strong affection Jade couldn't quite shake. She ignored Spike's not-so quiet burp in the corner, refraining from turning towards him, but seeing him tilting his head back, probably deciding to take a nap now that his belly was full. She found her gaze start to linger, before shaking her head and turning her attention fully back to the girls. She wanted information, this was her time to get it. Music was playing in the front of the band, and Buffy was speaking quietly to the woman driving the van, not that Jade was overly eager to talk to Buffy. The blonde didn't like her much, and she doubted she'd be as free with answers.

"That's right. This here's our first mission, too. Buffy chose _us_ to investigate the sites." Samar answered, boasting.

"Sites?"

"Like the one by your town. There was … four more I think? They were all over the place. Well, in the States. The last one was near Phoenix, but they were long gone. I mean, I get that those Seers in the coven are all seeing and everything, but if they were just a little quicker, maybe we could have gotten them, you know? But it looks like this whole thing has just been a waste of time. Now we're just heading back to San Francisco again. A big circle of nothing."

"And there they're going to find out how to recreate the portals that the Order did?"

Samar shrugged. "I guess. Willow's there, so if anyone can figure out, she can. She's pretty powerful, for a witch. It's just annoying this 'mission' was such a bust."

"You should be thankful you weren't there." Jade contradicted with a wince. She looked over at Spike, whose eyes remained closed. He had been hurt too, struck in the shoulder, but it'd heal quickly enough. Maybe even faster than her own wounds. Not to mention, the amount of times he had been tossed down the stairs and into the wall. But it didn't even seem to slow him down. Perks of being a vampire, she supposed. She was unnerved that his chest didn't rise and fall as he napped, but she knew vampires didn't need to breathe. But he was just so… still. It gave her a chance to just look at him. Samar and Ashley had long dissolved back into their whispered conversation, and the back of the van was ignored by Buffy and her driver. The drive wasn't a short one, and pain and exhaustion eventually lulled her to sleep. This time, instead of pure blackness, she dreamed. It was hazy, erratic flashes. She was running, leaping and falling at one point when she felt hands like manacles wrap around her arms.

Her eyes opened to see Spike, steadying her as he propped her back up in a sitting position.

"You were falling," He said gruffly. Jade blinked groggily.

"Thanks. Hitting my head would just be the cherry on top, I guess." So she had been asleep, for a while, and she blinked hard to clear her eyes. Spike was still there, steadying her, and she found her breathing a tad constricted. With an odd look at her, he released her, settling back down against the opposite wall. He seemed awake, and she wondered for how long.

"We're almost there, anyway." He drawled as he leaned back. It was darker now, without even the filtered lights from the front of the vehicle. She knew Spike could see her much clearer than she could see him, with the dark clothes he wore, he blended in quite well to the shadows, although his paler skin and white blonde hair were the exception. "Did you have a good sleep, Van Winkle?"

"Yeah. At least, it was an actual sleep, and not brought on by blood loss." Jade scoffed. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her just how long it had been since she had eaten.

"There's fruit-y bars in that crate over there," Spike nodded to a box over on Jade's right. She looked at him in surprise, and then realised he could probably hear her stomach growl, and smell the food, even if he didn't eat it himself. She reached for it, grinding her teeth at the pain in her torso, but it wasn't. She pulled a piece out, ripping off the plastic covering and taking a large bite.

"You're quite a prattler in your sleep."

Jade rose her head warily, though she shrugged casually. "Yeah. I always have."

"Make you nervous? You talk a lot, too. Full on monologues. Bloody lengthy."

"Anything good?" Jade allowed herself a humorous smile.

"Not as good as Shakespeare. Ha! I'm kidding. Ponce didn't know a thing about poetry. Well, he did. But there are better, you know."

Jade shook her head with amusement, panic dissipating. She knew she spoke in her sleep of course, she'd been told. She was always curious, but she didn't have many inhibitions when she wasn't awake, and she could had said just about anything. Even when prophecies weren't hacking into her dreams, they were discombobulated and strange. She stuffed the rest of the bar in her mouth, chewing quickly when the van took a sharp curve and then slowed, coming to a stop.

"We're here, Dorothy." Spike spoke to her, his expression impassive, although she could see a slight discomfort.

"Sun's gone down. Everybody out," Buffy ordered from the front. Spike sighed lightly, and then in tandem, he and Jade opened the doors. She held onto the van as she heaved herself out onto the pavement. It was past the sunset, as Buffy had said, but only just. Violet rays still made their way through the sky. She felt like she had lost a whole day, but it was more the apprehension that the kids were still trapped in the other dimension, if they were alive. The words chain and drain came to mind, and not in a happy way. They were running out of time. If they hadn't already.

Spike bounced onto the ground next to her, a sneer on his face as he straightened. "Home sweet home."

She followed his gaze, surprised to see what looked like, well a hotel. There was a large parking lot, partially enclosed by trees, a garden that sprawled around it. It was several stories high, four, with a courtyard that extended behind it. "Oh, it's nice."

"Willow's idea. Well, Angels Investigations used to be run in a hotel, so she got that idea for that. And then Wolfram & Hart bought it for us as kind of a treaty thing. Well, Angel did." Samar explained as she tumbled out of the van with Ashley. It wasn't much of an explanation, for Jade was more confused than if Samar hadn't said anything at all, but she shrugged.

"Oh goodie. Can't wait to catch up with the gang." Spike rubbed his hands against each other in fake glee.

"How many of you are there?" Jade asked Samar, who shrugged.

"About a hundred, although more or less at any given time. People go in and out a _lot_. This is the base of Slayers for the whole east coast, so we got a lot of newbies, and anyone coming in to report. Like Willow and Kennedy. They were heading things in Scotland, but they came back to the States for the last mission, and now this."

She was learning a lot of names, a few to many to catch up, but she nodded. Buffy walked around from the van. Her alluring gaze stopped first on Spike, who looked around unimpressed. "Willow's waiting. Girls, go report to Vi, get yourselves some supper, and get an early night. Be rested, and ready." The girls nodded at Buffy's instruction, walking off with the third Slayer who had been driving. Buffy looked back at Spike and Jade. "Come on. Maybe you can give some useful information about the kids that were taken."

"That's what I'm here for." Jade said solidly, not missing Buffy's narrowing of her eyes as she stalked off towards the entrance. Buffy would have been willing to leave her in Haven, but Jade _did_ have information, and leaving her would have been a mistake.

Spike whistled. "Careful. Don't want to start another fight. Although it would be fun to watch."

"I'll behave." Jade said with light amusement. She was stiff, but no longer wrought with pain, and for the most part, managed to keep up with Spike and Buffy as they strode across the parking lot. They stepped through the glass doors, opening to within. It wasn't particularly fancy, and almost normal looking within. But it was a large place, and if it housed as many people as Samar had claimed, a hotel was perfect.

In the middle, two women stood waiting, close together. One was native American, with bold dark eyes, and defined cheekbones that inadvertently reminded Jade of Spike's. His were certainly elegant, their pronounced curve and indent. She shook her head slightly, impatiently, to look at the slightly taller woman standing there as well, with copper red hair that fell just past her collarbone. Of the two, she looked friendlier, giving Buffy a warm smile, and looking over at Jade with affable curiosity.

"Glad you're back." The redhead said to Buffy, her lighthearted expression reverting to one more of somber concern. "Hi Spike. You made it." Her eyebrows raised with a easy grin.

"Well I didn't have much choice. Especially after you made your plea in my telly, Willow. My poor telly." Spike muttered under his breath.

"Have you found out how to get into the dimension after the Order?" Buffy cut in, restlessly. Willow shook her head reluctantly.

"Giles is working on finding the exact portal they used. The coven's ready, for the most part. They just need to know where to open the portal to, and well, how to protect you from what's on the other side."

"And how much time do we have left?" Buffy questioned. They began walking, and Jade followed silently. She saw Willow's companion look at Jade with narrowed eyes, slight suspicion, but said nothing as they stepped out of the main lobby and into a side room—a meeting room, rather, with a long table and chairs. There were already heaps of books out, opened, three more young women sitting there, reading, and didn't even look up as the others entered.

"Uh… one of the books that mentioned them said they need a whole day to prepare. If that's in our hours or their dimension hours, we don't quite know." Willow said, slightly flustered.

"It's written in the normal language of 'obscure as hell'," The native American woman supplied, disgust in her voice.

"Well, these two were here. They can tell you about the portal, and those it took. I'm getting on the phone with Giles. We can't waste much more time." Buffy declared.

"We haven't been wasting it," Willow's shorter companion declared, though Willow reached out with her hand, touching her in comfort.

"We'll get it done, Buffy." Willow promised her.

"I certainly hope so. If it's another one of those end-of-the-world options, I've had more than my fill." Spike commented dryly. Buffy looked at him, her gaze lingering for a heartbeat before turning back through the swinging doors, letting them close behind her.

"Well." Willow said in the silence, her lip twitching in a slight show of discomfort. "I'm Willow, by the way."

"Jade," She shook Willow's hand as it was offered.

"And I'm Kennedy." The dark haired woman added in.

"Great. Now that we're all introduced, you all hit the books, will you. Get me something physical to punch." Spike sat down on one of the chairs. Kennedy rolled her eyes at him, before taking her own seat. "Buffy said that that didn't work all that great for you."

"Well, if miss Red here sent me after the physical type, and not magic mojo people, I might have been able to do something. Instead they just threw me around like a rag doll with their hocus pocus. It was bloody fun. Not."

"We're working on that." Willow assured him. She sat down next to Kennedy, and motioned for Jade to as well. "Sit down. You seem a bit shaky."

"Tell us what you remember of the portal," Kennedy ordered in the next breath, as soon as Jade sat down at the table.

"Eh. Green. Lightning. Held open for a couple minutes." Spike shrugged, crossing his fingers behind his head.

"Any of the words they used to open it?" Willow asked.

"Do I look like I speak latin?"

"They ended the spell with Aperta Porta." Jade supplied, and Willow nodded, her face skewed up in thought.

"That narrows it down, a little. Pretty general stuff, but. I wish we had Fred." Willow added in a quiet off-note.

"Well, she's gone, isn't she. So handle it without her." Spike said, a little brusquely.

"Watch your mouth, Vamp." Kennedy snapped, her eyes blazing. "We've been doing all we can. You're the one who let them go."

"What?" Spike's eyebrows raised in angry surprise, contempt in his burning blue gaze. "I didn't have a bloody clue of what I was up against. You gits sent me in there without barely a flight plan."

"We told you everything we knew." Willow answered quietly.

"Which wasn't bloody anything!"

"How did you find about this enough to try to stop it, anyway?" Jade interrupted.

"One of the seers in the coven had a vision, and we found a prophecy, a very obscure one to back it up. We've been figuring this out as we've gone alone." Willow said with a sigh. "We could have delayed this… conflict if we had found the power sources before they gathered it. Which we didn't find out until they basically gathered them all. Now that they're gone, we're back to trying to find them before we can even stop them. And they're strong, now. After the ritual they'll be highly powerful. Maybe even invulnerable."

"Does who they took help?"

"Yeah. Maybe. They were taken from an orphanage, right?"

Jade was nodding when Spike rose to his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kennedy demanded.

"Going for a walk. No need to pick my brain when you got hers. I don't know a thing about the kids they took."

"You could at least pretend to be interested—" Kennedy protested, and Willow placed her hand on the woman's arm. "It's fine." Willow soothed. "Just stay nearby." She told Spike with a seriousness in her green eyes. Spike shrugged, waltzing out of the room. Jade followed his figure until it disappeared.

"He's just going off to stalk Buffy, probably." Kennedy muttered.

"That's fine. Well, not fine. We got other things to worry about," Willow corrected in increasing agitation. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"Five kids. The orphanage, like the town, is full of strange… things. One kid's half demon. Another one's a full Brachen demon. But the ones they took, they're all full blooded human. They just have one thing in common. All come from magical families, in their blood."

"Potential witches." Willow said.

"Wait a minute," Kennedy frowned. "That doesn't matter. Willow doesn't have a lick of magical blood in her family and she's the strongest witch in the world. So why these kids, then?"

"Well—" Jade started, but Willow was speaking first.

"That's true, sweetie. But it's in their blood, gives them like, a head start. Most of the time. There's still some magic there, and that's what they wanted."

"How do you know all this about them?" Kennedy asked Jade suspiciously then, looking up at her. "Did you work at the Orphanage with them?"

"No. I just babysat from time to time. It's a small town." She added to Kennedy's raised eyebrow. "I was bored, and I like to not be in the dark, so I read their files, once."

"And you just happen to remember the information?"

Jade bit back the impulse to roll her eyes. "Yes." She stated simply. She risked a look at Willow, who looked more contemplative than distrustful.

"And they're all from magic families? You're sure?" The redheaded woman asked inquisitively, as Kennedy grumbled to herself, not keeping her black eyes off of Jade. Jade had the feeling that the two of them were a couple, and while she felt herself immediately falling to Willow's accepting, easy-going attitude, Kennedy was the protective one. It didn't matter. Jade didn't have anything to hide, and she was here to help.

"Yeah. That's what the files said, anyway. The one on the youngest, Sophie's probably the barest. She's about four years old, dropped off as a newborn, basically. That one, apparently her mother was killed by demonic possession on her twentieth birthday. She was dropped off on the doorstep."

Jade saw Willow's eyes widen in something akin to distress and memory. "What's the last name?" Willow asked slowly.

"Of Sophie? Uh. Mc…Maclay? It was on her birth certificate, I guess, she didn't have much else."

She watched the distress escalate to anguish and disbelief, Willow's wide green eyes staring at her, or through her, rather, lost in her own head. "Maclay?" Willow repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Tara?"

* * *

 **A/N: _Thank you Nicole Wire for the review! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you're enjoying the story, it makes me want to write more._**

 ** _I have a whole lot of arcs in mind, and I hope I get to do them all. Some of these chapters are a little short and sweet, mainly because I just put them up as I'm done, and I chose one shorter chapter every day/every other day rather than a longer one every couple of days. For now, I've just been stopping them as the point of view switches between Jade and Spike. Thank you to everyone who has kept reading this far. As an writer, I've always been more heavy on description, and weaker on dialogue, and humor. But Spike talks a_ lot _and I try really hard to write things he'd likely say. I hope I've done and continue to do him justice. This is a more dialogue heavy chapter than I usually write, but hopefully it moves and explores the story a bit more. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear anything, praise or criticism on how the story is going so far. Thank you!_**


	11. Chapter 10

**10**

Kennedy hadn't been wrong. As soon as Spike had left the dusty smelling room of books and undecipherable words, he had walked through the halls looking for Buffy. He found her, not too far away, talking into her phone, her back to him. He slowed a little, letting himself take in the sight, her blonde, soft curls cascading between her shoulder blades. She looked good from behind, still, even clothed. She was a powerful little thing, and damn, was she gorgeous. And she could be pleasant when she wanted to be, a firecracker of emotion and passion. He looked appreciatively at her, only faintly hearing the words she was speaking to her Watcher, Giles. Although he wasn't in charge of her any more, and hadn't been for a while, Blondie had found a father figure in him, and despite her spats, he was one of her most trusted commanders. Spike wondered if he could have said the same thing about himself, if he had stayed. But no, he had left her, let her race off to face all her little crises. Well, damnit, she bloody well left him first. All too eager to bring him into the fray when she wanted some more muscle, but just as likely to leave him back there in the dirt, expecting him to be waiting there for when she got back. Well, not any more. He'd turned his back on that little charade.

Except here he was again, answering the call.

Woops.

"Well, we're running out of time. I know. I'll have Willow call you as soon as they have anything. It's just, they're children, Giles. I know we can't win all our battles, but we're going to win this one. Well, we'll find it. Point me there, Giles, and I'll get it down. Yeah. You too." She snapped the phone shut, and bloody hell if he hadn't missed what came next, the slow swing of her hair, arraying around her as she swung around to meet him. Her expression wasn't exactly as friendly as he'd like it, antagonistic would be a better word for it, but he'd seen that look on her many a time. In fact, maybe it was a default setting. That'd make some sense. "Listening in on me?"

"No, I was just looking." Spike disagreed innocently. "Not so interested in the blah blah."

"You haven't changed." Buffy declared, exasperated.

"On the contrary, I've changed plenty, pet. Not you, though. Still keeping everyone at arm's length. Work, work work."

"Is this about everyone? Or you? I've been busy, Spike. Saving the world. Can this wait til after that?" Buffy blinked those dazzling green eyes of hers, her expression unimpressed and impatient.

"You're always saving the bloody world!" Spike exclaimed with agitation. He saw Buffy flinch at little, at the loudness of his outburst.

"You'd rather I wasn't? Just let it burn so you can get some?" Buffy spoke in a glacial tone, arching an eyebrow and pronouncing her lips into a flat line.

"I'm saying that you could take a break from it. You got a whole mess of women wanting to show their worth. You wouldn't have to be here all the time, in the thick of it, if you didn't want to." Spike's voice was calmer now. He wouldn't plead, no, damn it, he had some dignity left, didn't he? But his voice was gentler, soothing. He'd been called a persuasive, charming bastard in his time, but for all that charm it didn't seem to do a damn thing on Buffy. But he wasn't asking her to drop her hero mantle. Just to lower it, for a little bit. To get away with him, just him. How was that much to ask? If he knew, absolutely knew that she didn't care a thing for him—well if only it were that easy. But the minx did care for him, he knew that, so the fact that she felt for him and continued to keep him at arms length was bloody aggravating. She was just so damn stubborn. She had to control every bit of everything, and she didn't like the fact that she couldn't control her feelings for him.

"I don't want to take a break." Buffy's voice interrupted his thoughts in a cold statement. "This is where I want to be, Spike. What I want to be doing. If you don't get that—"

He had crossed the little distance between them, even as Buffy took an involuntary step backwards, brushing her shoulders against the wall. He had her trapped here, between him and the wall, and she had no choice but to look up at him. She wasn't afraid—nor was he trying to be intimidating. He was well aware that she could lift him up and throw him down the wall if she wanted—but she hadn't yet. And that hesitation gave him hope. "What I don't get, is why you won't give in to how you feel about me." His low voice had dropped to almost a whisper, and he had begun lowering his head towards her. Her eyes were looking back at him, unyielding, apathetic in her expression, but he could hear how quickly her heart thumped in her chest, how her breath caught between her teeth. She wanted him, he could tell. If he could just…

He lowered his mouth to hers, wanting to capture her lips between his teeth, remind her, when she whispered a single word that stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't."

That's all she had to say; he froze. It was a memory that tormented him still—and likely always would. Before he had his soul, he was convinced he could make Buffy love him. Force himself on her. How close he had come—it disgusted him still. It had haunted him so completely that he had even gone on his way to reclaim his soul—by choice. But he still remembered her cries, and he knew she remembered too. It disgusted him now, to think he still walked dangerously along that path; that making moves on Buffy she didn't encourage would push her hidden feelings to the surface. But there was one utter difference between who Spike was now, and who he had been then. He stopped. He wouldn't push her further than that. He stepped back immediately, and then another step to make sure. Buffy took another breath. She might not have meant to use their past as a weapon against him, but it had worked.

"Fine. I won't. Just here to help, then." He spoke indifferently. Some emotion flashed in Buffy's mesmerizing green eyes, and her lips opened for a moment, as if she was finally ready to open up to him, but then she closed it, and her normal business-like expression came to life.

"Good." Buffy said with a nod, and Spike bit back a scoff. 'Good'. He mocked it in his head, and a bit with his expression, when he heard a clatter, raised voices from the conference room.

"What the sodding hell now?" He muttered.

He had opened the doors to the room to see it quite different than the atmosphere he had left it. The three reading Slayerettes were standing up now, their eyes wide. Willow was sitting at the table, shock on her face, her eyes glistening, and Kennedy had Jade pushed against the wall, her hand at the long haired girl's throat.

"Did I miss something?" Spike asked, aghast.

"She's not on our side. She just came here to sabotage Willow." Kennedy spat, narrowing her dark eyes at Jade, who was staring back just as coldly. She kept her hands at her side, only just, though Spike saw the paler woman's hands flexing into fists.

"You asked me questions, and I answered." Jade denied, her voice coming out scratchy, as she managed to keep her tone level. "I have no idea what you're so pissed about."

"How do you know about Tara?" Kennedy was a bit rougher this time, hitting the other girl's head against the wall.

"I don't!" Jade's voice raised in barely contained anger, and by this time, Buffy waltzed into the room. "What's going on? Willow? Kennedy, let her go. Not like she can get out of here if we don't want her to."

Kennedy narrowed her eyes further, furious expression on her face. She hesitated—not one to be taking orders, Spike remembered that well enough, but she relented, removing her hand from Jade's neck and taking a step back. Jade touched her hand to her throat tentatively, swallowing before she spoke again, slightly hoarse.

"I was telling them what I know of the children." Jade answered slowly, in an attempt to stay calm. Spike did have to admire her control, although with the same breath, it was one of the things about Buffy that made her so damn unbearable sometimes, that she just couldn't manage to let go, that she had to be miss Discipline all the time. "I was talking about the youngest, when something about her name upset Willow, and then Kennedy accused me of manipulation among other things, and pinned me to the wall."

"She's on their team. Just trying to distract us." Kennedy snarled immediately. "Give me ten minutes, and I can rearrange her story to the truth." She took a step forward, and Jade watched her warily.

"Hang on a tick." Spike interrupted, before anything else could go out a whack. "I don't know what's got your panties in a twist, but before you pin her to the cross can I remind you that she's got several holes in her from these people you'd think she's all buddy-buddy with?"

"Wounded soldier trick," Kennedy scoffed. "Oldest trick in the book."

"No, _I'm_ the oldest trick in this book, and I've seen a thing or two. She saved my life. Possibly twice. That earns her a chance in my books. I think I would have noticed if she was part of the Dark Jedi club. So why don't you calm down a bit."

Buffy had stepped towards to Willow, shedding her general persona for a minute whisper quietly to her friend, taking her hand in hers. "Willow, what is it?" Buffy's voice was laced with compassion, and Spike felt a twinge of jealousy that she never spoke like that to him, with such obvious concern in her tone. "Tara." Willow murmured.

"I never said Tara. The child's last name is Maclay, but there was no Tara in the file." Jade insisted. She was missing on the whole ex-lover sub plot, but Spike was beginning to get it. Willow was distraught, and well, Kennedy was just Kennedy. She was reacting to whatever was upsetting Willow, and her own insecurities about Willow's dead soul mate. Tara. She had been a good person, for being in the scoobies and all. She had never seen Spike with his soul, but she had always treated him decently. As for her, even Spike had had a hard time hating her—and hadn't. He didn't learn about her death until after he had been reensouled, so it had hit him hard. Was a waste, but even with his soul he was bloody glad Willow had skinned the son of a bitch.

Willow had been muttering an explanation to Buffy, getting a hold of herself. No tears had dropped, she had just been thrown. "Do you know the name of the mother?" She asked Jade, who hesitated.

"It was a while ago," She admitted.

"I can take the memory out." Willow started, rising to her feet. "See it myself. It's possible that there's no connection, but the place where the child was is closeby to where her family lived."

"No-one's going in my head." Jade warned, and Kennedy turned her blazing expression on her once more.

"Got something to hide?" Kennedy threatened coldly.

Spike didn't blame Jade; he wouldn't want someone rifling through his head either. Not that she could do much about it if they put their minds to it. Willow was the strongest witch in the world, if she wanted to do something she had the power to see it through.

"Give me a second. A man dropped her off. I don't remember his name either—it might not have been in the file. The woman was possessed by an ethros demon. She was pregnant at the time, so they took the baby from her, in case the exorcism wasn't successful, and it wasn't. So they left the child in their care. B something."

"Beth?" Willow asked, her eyes wide, and Jade nodded slowly.

"Elizabeth, I think, was the full name. But that sounds right. I'm guessing you know them?"

"Beth. Wasn't that—" Buffy frowned, looking at Willow, who nodded, her matter of fact voice coming back, steady.

"Tara's cousin. Yeah. Buffy, I think one of the missing is Beth's daughter. Tara's family." Willow said softly. Buffy murmured comforting words, but Spike was looking at Kennedy, whose eyes narrowed in irritation. Yep, just what she wanted, another reminded about her lover's ex. She was certainly good at playing the jealous one, that Kennedy. Spike didn't care much for her personally, but she was a strong-willed fighter, not afraid to get her hands dirty.

"We'll stop them, okay? Get them all back. But now we have to focus." Buffy soothed, and Willow nodded.

"I'm okay now, Buffy. Just a bit of a shock. I'll get back to work."

"So I guess that demonic possession crap they came up with on Tara's birthday had some merit then, huh?" Buffy was commenting to Willow, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "I guess so. I can't believe they left her there, though. Little Sophie. If Tara knew—" She busied herself by looking at the books, tucking back a strand of copper red hair.

"Just hurry. Whatever you need. If you need more hands…"

"No, we're good for now, Buffy. Quiet should help."

Buffy nodded, and then looked up as Jade gravitated towards the door. "Where are you going?" The blonde asked, though her antagonizing tone had dulled down some. Jade didn't look all that great, between getting in a boxing match with Buffy and getting roughed up by Kennedy, on top of the little holes in her gut.

"Getting some air," Came the flat reply. "I won't go far." She lifted her blazing blue eyes up to Buffy, as if demanding her to disagree, but Buffy lifted a shoulder in a slow shrug.

"Okay." Buffy acquiesced, and Jade stepped through the doors, out into the lobby.

"Welp, not like these books don't look fun and all. But I best keep an eye on her." Spike said, following suit, more than willing to ditch the books, especially with Willow's wounded expression and Kennedy's fuming. But a frown crossed Buffy's face, akin to the jealousy he loved inflicting on her from time to time.

"Yeah. You best go do that."


	12. Chapter 11

**11**

The events of the day were still spinning before her, so fast they were a blur. She had gone all but incognito the year, living an almost normal life in Haven—which was the most ironic place where she could have found it. In a completely abnormal, demon-infested town, she, a Slayer, felt right at home. Where she wasn't special, wasn't even noticed. Where she worked like any person, kept to herself, paid her rent. Roomed with a soulless demon, and their four cats. But she had gotten by. Though she had far much too time in her own head, remembering things she'd wish she could just forget. Her hand, pressed to her aching neck, dropped, resting on her left breast, the red 'V' she had tattooed over her heart. It was nice to have forgotten, even just for a little while. She had been so swept up in everything, she'd barely had time to think. What bothered her though, was she had missed it. The adrenaline in her veins, her heart beating so quickly that it was a thrum, the way her breath was rough in her mouth, like it was now. Although that was more a side-effect from Kennedy's crushing grip than anything else. And it had hurt, being knocked to the wall, the breath pushed from her. But she felt more alive than she had in over a year. And though her short time being the Slayers meant she had been in one fight to another, it was excitable, infecting her.

She stepped quickly out of the hotel, thankful to be out in the cooler air, taking in the deep breaths to soothe her throat. She settled down on the cold, stone steps, running her fingers through the strands of hair that had fallen out of the bun. Still. She couldn't wait to go back to her apartment, to Haven, where she could hide away. This shouldn't revive her passion for the Slayer life, but remind her how dangerous it was. She'd lost enough living it, she deserved as long as break as she wanted. There were others to carry the mantle. And they were rather vivacious in reminding her how she wasn't wanted—or trusted. Kennedy had jumped on her like a lion to elk, leaving Jade bewildered. She still didn't have much of the story, except that the child was a relative of someone Willow cared about. Someone who was likely dead, and who Willow still loved dearly. Which explained Kennedy's prolific anger. Jade had guessed that the two women were dating, the touches, the looks. And the defensiveness. Jade touched her throat. She was pale, naturally, and with a grip like that, she had no doubt it would bruise—if it hadn't already. At least it would heal quickly enough. The mark that Buffy had left on her face had already begun to fade from the spectacular rainbow it had started out as, at least it didn't hurt as badly. She felt it tenderly, but the pain was hardly a tingle. Her torso, yes, that was still agonizing, but she could manage the pain. High pain tolerance—out of practice.

"You know, it's different having you around." Drawled a voice from behind her. She looked up to see the towering man, dressed in black, looking down at her. He was breathtaking, she admitted grudgingly, looking imposing, as the duster jacket fluttered behind him. Then it was endearing, as the taller man lowered himself, sprawling down on the steps next to her, a few feet—thankfully—between them. He did it casually, easily, resting on his elbow, his knee pointed to the sky, which had darkened considerably. "Usually I'm the odd man out. Most wanted. Big bad. But I mean, you've only been around them less than a day, and you've already gotten into two fights. You even had Willow wanting to pick your brain. That takes serious talent."

Jade glanced at him, a small smile curling her lip of its own volition. She couldn't take him seriously, and he wasn't trying to be cruel, there was a sarcastic, humorous underlying to his tone. "I do what I can." She shrugged. He was pulling his cigarettes from his jacket, putting one to his lips and offering another to her. She accepted it with a grateful nod, holding it between her fingers as he lit the smokes with his lighter. There was a moment of silence as they exhaled twin puffs of smoke, and Jade was grateful for the distraction of a cigarette. She wasn't highly addicted, but she liked in moments of stress, and this counted as one.

"You weren't even trying to be," Spike spoke after a moment, imperious. "That's the sad part. You've gone along like a little puppy dog, wanting to fit in and be all helpful and appreciated. Maybe even offer back rubs."

Jade narrowed her eyes, and Spike raised his eyebrows, challenging her, to see if she'd bite.

"We talking about me, or you? Seems to me as soon as Buffy is around, that describes you perfectly." She held her breath, waiting for his expression change to a deep scowl. From his position on the stairs, he had been looking up at her, and she waited for him to turn away, for shadows to warp his expression, but to his surprise, he laughed.

"Bravo. That's the first time you've gotten right snippy with me. Starting to think you were a Spock."

"The race is called Vulcan. And they're built on logic. I have emotions." Jade stuck a loose curl behind her ear. Despite missing out completely on Next Generation, she loved Star Trek, and his reference, however obscure, tickled her with warmth, despite the fact she should have been more defensive. He was criticising her, after all.

"Could have fooled me. You don't act like anything, show anything. All stone-faced, like a rock."

"I have plenty—"

"All the time Miss High and Mighty was shoving you into the wall with her hand around her neck you just let her. And don't say it didn't make you angry, because it did."

"You think I should have hit her back?"

"You let them walk all over you. Oh please, yes, let me help. Let me convince you I'm good with my words while you're strangling me." His tone hit a falsetto, mocking her.

"I highly doubt I could win against another Slayer right now."

"Didn't stop you from fighting Buffy."

There was a silence, two more puffs of smoke. "Is that the problem, that I fought Buffy?"

"God, no." He chuckled again. "She bloody well needs someone to knock her down a peg from time to time, the fact that you might have bruised her doesn't bother me one bit. But you stood up to Buffy, and not to Kennedy."

"I wasn't exactly 'standing up'. I fought Buffy because I wouldn't have been allowed to come here otherwise. Kennedy was just muscling me around."

"You stood up because it involved something else; the little kiddies. When it concerned just you, no, please, pummel me all you like." He raised his hands and waved them in mock surrender.

"Figured it all out, did you?" Jade asked, in her same level tone. He wasn't wrong, though it hadn't really seemed like a difference at the time. She was vastly outnumbered, even if she had tried to muscle Kennedy off of her, it would have likely made things worse. So she hadn't even tried, and she had the lattice-like bruises across her throat to prove it. Still, Spike's observations bothered her. He acted the big brute, all fight and no thinking, but he was perceptive.

"Oh, yeah. Piece of cake." The comment bothered her, that she had been figured out in a second, but she reminded herself that he didn't know anything. And what did it matter. He was just a vampire, allied with the Slayers or not, his loyalties would undeniably leave him with them, while she had tried very hard to escape it, and soon as the mission was done, she'd leave it again. Back to Haven, where she was safe.

He was looking so smug, so sure of himself, that Jade decided to level the tables her own. She crushed the rest of the cigarette beneath her heel, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Do you fancy yourself all insightful because you have a soul of your own?"

His eyes widened, sucking in air with shock. "Bloody hell!" He said with a surprised expression, his mouth open slightly. "How'd you figure that."

"You're hanging out with Slayers."

"Fair enough, that."

"I think I knew. When I pushed you out of the way. Suspected maybe, in the back of my mind, and that was enough."

He narrowed his eyes. "Well I was thinking of carrying around a big sign 'Hey I have a soul', but apparently I don't need it."

"No, it was just something else my roommate said."

"The broad I play poker with?"

"That's her. She's a demon without a soul, and she's particularly obsessed with getting one. The reason she lives in Haven—the reason most do is because of the obscurity. As you probably know. Hard to find people in there, like searching through a Bermuda triangle. Anyway, she hides out there because she doesn't have a soul, and she can detect whether or not others have them. It was just something she muttered about you once. That you had something she didn't."

"And you took that to mean I had a soul? Maybe she was just talking about parts."

"No," Jade said with a whiff of amusement. "That is, I'm pretty sure she could grow one if she wanted to. Her race is good at changing their shape, to look like humans, might not stop at a particular race."

"Well, that's just barmy. Maybe I'll just ignore the 'sex me' eyes, then. Don't need anything extra in the bedroom."

Jade laughed a little at his appalled expression, warily watching it change to a more contemplative one.

"That's pretty dangerous company you keep yourself with. A demon without a soul." Spike remarked.

"There's worse company," Jade replied quietly, glancing away from him. She grunted a little under her breath as she leaned back, pains in her torso reminding her that she wasn't quite healed. A couple days at least, a week at most to be in perfect condition again.

She was enjoying the silence that encompassed them for a time, that the two of them had nothing to say, nor needed to, when there was a clatter of footsteps behind them. Spike noticed first, as he turned to look behind them, Jade followed his gaze. It was a Slayer, one of the ones that had been researching with Kennedy and Willow, if Jade was right. She hadn't paid them much heed, they were so quiet. They hadn't looked up from their books until Kennedy had smacked her into the wall, and even then, they hadn't said a word. But it was one of them now, young, maybe a year younger than Jade, Asian with long flowing black hair. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were bright, energetic.

"There's been a meeting called. We've found out the right hell dimension. If you wouldn't mind," Her urgency gave way to politeness, and she shot them a nervous smile. Spike rose to his feet in one graceful flourish, whereas Jade was slower, biting back a wince as she followed him into the building.

The atmosphere had changed in the space of the time since they had been gone, which couldn't have been more than a half hour. There were more people standing in the lobby, weapons set out on the tables and couches. Kennedy, Buffy and Willow were talking urgently to each other, near the entrance to the conference room, and Spike took a b-line to them that Jade followed, coming up to hear Willow speaking.

"And I'll go now, teleport to the coven. We'll raise the portal for you here."

"How many can go through?" Buffy was asking.

"As many as you want. But, we can only charm twelve of the necklaces I was telling you about. It'll take too much magic to do more."

"Charm twelve whatsits?" Spike asked, to which Jade was grateful. She doubted they'd answer her anything if she tried to interrupt, and being even as quiet as she was being now, Kennedy had noticed her immediately, narrowing her eyes at her, twin black pools filled with suspicion.

"These servants of the Order, they wield powerful magics. Like you said, Spike, you couldn't get close to them. There's a spell, that can imbue talismans, in our case, necklaces with an kind of anti-magic aura. Any direct magic aimed at the user should be negated."

"Direct magic?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, they can still enchant a rock to fly at your head, but anything—the telekinesis, it should stop that."

"Willow, that's a lot of shoulds." Buffy started, which Kennedy replied with a sharp glare.

"It's better than just going in there to get tossed around. Especially if they've already completed the ritual, killed the children and become uber-powerful." Kennedy snapped.

"Drained." Jade said.

Kennedy's head twirled back towards her. "Excuse me?"

"Drained. They're going to drain the children of their blood." She didn't blink as Kennedy's face twisted into an unfriendly smile.

"Oh, they let you know that, did they?"

"Dreamed it." Jade returned impassively.

"Enough. And Willow, you and the coven can't come with us? We just have to go in, hoping the necklaces work?" Buffy interrupted with a commanding tone.

"We have to pool our power to open the portal. And then imbue the necklaces. Once we activate the talismans, the anti-magic will only work so long, I just. I don't quite know how it'll work in the other dimension. They could activate all at once. One by one, or not at all."

"Or turn us all into ponies." Spike sighed.

Ignoring him, Buffy turned to Willow. "And the portal is two ways? We can use it to get back?"

Willow nodded. "We'll keep it open, Buffy. And if it closes, Kennedy will let me know." She looked at her girlfriend, whose expression softened. A telepathic communication, one of magic's uses. Jade didn't envy them. She didn't want anyone in her head.

"Alright. Go, then. We'll get ready, while you open the portal." Buffy ordered. Willow nodded, and in a pop, she was gone, similar to Lythia'l when the demon teleported. Jade never got tired of seeing it, and at another time, she'd envy it. Buffy turned towards a chest, opening it and starting to pull jeweled necklaces from it. She put one around her head, handing one to Kennedy, and then to Spike.

"The last time you gave me a necklace, luv, I died." Spike reminded her. The blonde stopped for a moment, her expression softening. Instead of a witty comeback, her voice was soft when she replied.

"I remember." For some reason, her sweet remark perturbed Jade. Buffy hadn't seemed to care much for Spike one way or another, whereas Spike's affection was easily apparent. But it looked like there was some requited warmth there, bothering Jade. She pushed it out of her mind as Buffy's green gaze landed on her next, waiting, a necklace in hand, but not yet offered. Buffy asked the question silently, raising an eyebrow.

"I can help." Jade said, simply. She couldn't see Spike where she stood. Would he think her weak, because she was asking instead of telling? She didn't want to beg, but she had to be there. Had to help. Had to face Fyora again, felt it in her heart of hearts. If she just wanted Fyora to look her in the eye as she died for her betrayal, or because she wanted an explanation, Jade didn't know. But she had to find out. She held Buffy's eyes without blinking, her breath tight in her chest.

Buffy's gaze flickered down to Jade's abdomen, where she knew the wounds were, up to the neck, where Kennedy had left a mark, and Jade's jaw, where Buffy had left her own. "Are you sure? You won't just get in the way?"

"I know those kids. And it might do them good to see a familiar face."

"If you betray us…I'll kill you." Buffy promised.

Jade nodded. "I won't." She heard Kennedy's scoff, but she ignored the other woman. "Let me do this. Please."

She held Buffy's scrutiny for another long moment, silence pulsing through them, and even Spike was quiet. Finally, slowly Buffy extended the necklace, resting it in Jade's palm. "Let's go be heroes."


	13. Chapter 12

**12**

It was time for the action. Spike stood away from the chittering teenage girls, watching their faces rise or fall as Buffy dispersed the rest of the amulets to her chosen few. He held his own in his hand, the tacky golden chain with a soft blue gemstone set in it. The engraving was different, a lion's mouth held the jewel, and its mane was spread out in elaborate decoration, but it still reminded Spike of the last amulet he put around his neck. That one had quite literally melted his skin off, burning his bones to dust and erupting into a flame that saved the world and closed the hellmouth. He had died. Gone, only to come back as a ghost a couple weeks later. It had seemed brutally unfair to him at the time. He had made his peace. It had been a bloody good way to end, taking the First with him. Yet he had come back as a non-corporeal _thing_ , until finally being restored—as the vampire he had been.

He certainly hoped that this amulet wouldn't do the same thing. He'd done enough dying in his life and unlife-time. In fact, he tried to avoid mojo as much as possible, but seeing as he didn't fancy being made into a human ping-pong ball again, he'd trust Willow. Twisting the necklace once more in his fingers, between his painted black nails, he let it drop on his chest, bright among the black clothing he wore. He watched Buffy then, as she moved purposefully through the crowd, talking to her followers. Spike didn't budge from where he stood; he could hear every damn word that came from her mouth anyway. This was Buffy at her best, bursting with instruction and a desire to mandate every last thing. She was electric, her eyes shining. She, like most Slayers, anticipated the fight, hungered for it. And Spike felt that too, to a point. Mostly because he was bored out of his mind, usually, around these young gabbing girls and their vibrant personalities. And he just hungered for the action. Talking and thinking about things was a bloody bore. Let him fight.

Buffy was telling them all to suit up, and Spike casted a disinterested look at the weapons table. Most of the Slayers were going at it vivaciously, sticking to their normal weapon of choice, despite the fact that they were going against humans, for the most part, and not their usual vampire foe. He watched as Kennedy oh-so importantly picked a few choice blades out of the mix, adding it to her belts, her main weapon being the crossbow already strapped to her back. Most of the girls picked swords; very few liked weapons, and those under Buffy's command rarely used them due to her dislike of them. As for Spike, there wasn't his preferred go-to toy. He had his fists, his strength, and his fangs, which he was just dying to sink into the Order's necks. Well, he was already dead.

He noticed Jade hovering at the back of Buffy's chosen. She wasn't listening as Buffy started with one of her famous speeches, although this was less colorful and more about the game plan than most of her dreary monologues. Jade's attention flashed to throwing knives, and she picked up a few, while buckling the machete she had had on her when he had first seen her to her thigh. She glanced behind her, over his shoulder, to meet his gaze. She seemed surprised, as if she hadn't noticed she was even making the gesture, though her face was half-turned that way already. Her bright blue eyes were determined, and she gave him a wan smile. He knew she was relieved that Buffy had allowed her here, and he was glad. It was what the loner had come here for, after all. She was bloody obsessed with trying to get those kids back. Even if Buffy hadn't given her one of the talismans, he had the suspicion that she would have thrown herself into the portal anyway. He raised his eyebrows in an suggestive manner, making a light face at Buffy's continued speech, and Jade's smile widened.

"Willow's ready. They're starting now," Kennedy's loud, bossy voice broke through the din, but this time it was with useful information. Buffy nodded.

"If you're not one of the twelve, back up. Go back to training, or sleep. Be ready. If we need more we may call you." Buffy said to the rest of her soldiers—Slayerettes, sorry—who backed up compliantly. With a blasé sigh, Spike made his way languidly over to the rest of them, where the air was beginning to snap with a green lightning. "Round two, boys." He said to himself, rubbing his hands together.

Mirroring the last time the portal opened, there was a swirling, and a distorted gateway appeared. Buffy turned towards all of them, portal at her back, the slayer's Scythe in her hand. It was her favorite weapon, and it too reminded Spike of their fight against the First. But at least that didn't turn whoever wielded it into a raging inferno. "Let's go. Let's show this Order who really has the power here." Her claim was met by cheers from her gatherers, with Kennedy watching silently. She wasn't all too happy with being the second-in command, was she. She was the definition of bossy and arrogant, and it was a good thing that she and Willow normally headed their own base. She didn't bow too well to others, but there was no questioning Buffy's leadership, not any more.

So, as she stepped into the portal, her eleven followers did so as well, without question.

It was a rush of kinetic energy, like stepping into a sweep of air, a twisting, turning feeling that only lasted a couple seconds before the world lurched and the emptiness he felt beneath his feet turned into solid ground as he landed on his feet, his shoulders pitching forward for a moment before he steadied himself. His quick reflexes benefited his grace, whereas a couple of the other Slayers had stumbled upon rematerializing in the dimension. Buffy stood firmly on her feet, Scythe at the ready in her hands. He glanced from her next to Jade, concern fleeting in his mind, but she was on her feet as well, although she looked sallow and gripped her torso protectively. But her machete was in her hand, and her eyes were bright enough, catching Spike's glance with one of her own.

But then they were gone, as were his, as he studied their surroundings. It looked like the inside of a cave, dusty gravel rockbed beneath their feet, and craggy walls, and no open sky to see, just dark shadows, made lit by the torches that were attached to stone. The silence was broken by scuffling and mutters as the Slayers made their way to their feet, brushing off the dirt.

"How do we tell when the talismans are working?" One of the Slayers asked, looking down at her jewelled necklace, where it shone no differently than before. Spike glanced at his. Not even a sparkle.

"It'll glow," Kennedy informed her, brandishing her crossbow. "Looks like there's only one path," She remarked to Buffy, who nodded.

"Then we see where it leads."

The troupe marched purposefully through the caves, where Spike kept his ears peeled, as they were the most sensitive of the lot. If their oh so magic necklaces hadn't turned on yet, an ambush wouldn't be all that pleasant. He picked up some of the mutterings of the Slayers, one younger one with ridiculously curly blonde hair turning to her companion and remarking, "Doesn't seem all that different to be a whole new dimension." Spike ignored the other Slayer's response, not too concerned about their smalltalk. Their pace was steady for a few minutes as the blonde Vampire listened carefully. Then, there, a light scraping sound.

"Buffy." He called. She stopped immediately, turning to look at him. That look, it almost made him forget what he was going to say. Her eyes were wide with that expectation, focusing on him, and only on him. It was probably that look that had made him stay with her for so long. It was as if he was the most important thing in the universe, that everything hinged on his word, his opinion. But he was naïve enough, back then, to mistake that look for so long as to meaning that it was he that was important to Buffy, but no. She only looked at him that way when he contributed to the mission, to the endgame, the plan. When he had something to offer. There was nothing intimate or special behind it, so he cleared his throat. He wouldn't be love's bitch, not now.

"Up ahead." He warned her, and she nodded.

They had only gone a few steps when the one who had asked about the talismans exclaimed, "Amelie, your necklace is glowing!" She looked down at her chest. "Mine's not."

Kennedy cursed under her breath, but Spike could hear it. "Damn. That must mean they're going to activate one by one."

"Okay." Buffy nodded seriously, a calm and collected general. It was a obstacle, but they could work around it. "No matter what, no fighting until all our talismans are activated. We fight as a team. If we go in one by one, it's suicide. Understand?" Nodding and acquiescence from her followers, although Spike noticed Jade didn't react in one way or another, but kept glancing surreptitiously at her own dull necklace. Buffy continued to lead them, albeit more slowly, and the light sound of grinding was replaced then by a low chanting, which increased. More magic chants. Bloody fantastic. Even the Slayers could hear it now, gripping their weapons tighter.

As the tunnel took one final bend, it opened into a wide cavern, and they saw them. On an elevated edge, which was rounded and large, crafted similar in the way of a stage, cloaked figures stood. There were twenty of them, and double that many children. The children huddled on the ground, chained to each other, arranged in a circle around the chanting Order. But the children were still _alive_ , at least, and he felt some relief for that, keeping Jade's disturbing words about draining in the back of his head.

As the cloaked figures noticed the Slayers, they stopped mid chant.

"Oh, we didn't interrupt your latin class, did we?" Buffy asked in her fake saccharine tone, dipping her head to one side. She spoke boastfully, loudly, although to her previous command, she still wanted them to hang back until the talismans worked. _If_ they worked. Amelie or whatever her name was, had the only one still that was activated. Spike was tempted to take it and fight them himself, alone. He was feeling antsy, and something about the situation still made him anxious. He wouldn't feel better under he had a chance to knock them around a bit, and take the children far, far away from where they were. This protectiveness he felt towards the young, that had been sorely lacking during his days without a soul. And now while he wasn't likely to bounce them on his knee or give them candy, he'd be damned if he saw them hurt on his watch. He was a champion now, however unwilling he was, or however rocky the road had been to get him there. Didn't quite have the hero mantle like Angel carried around with him but it was damned close enough.

He stepped with the Slayers as they spread out to a line, and he was shoulder to shoulder with Jade, who hadn't looked away from the children, and even he recognized the five that were taken from Haven.

The cloaked figures looked to each other calmly—far too calmly. They had a reason to be trembling in their little booties, and Spike was the reason. Oh yes, it was time for some sweet, sweet revenge.

Without worry, one of the Order raised their hand, and before the Slayers could do anything but flinch, the man spoke, in a clear, loud voice, " _Caerimonia, Minerva. Saepio, Saepire, Saepsi. Saepio Impedimentum!"_

Spike didn't recognize the words, but by Kennedy's hiss, and the cloudy barrier that suddenly constructed, he could tell it was some kind of spell—the kind that would keep them out. "Oh, it's bloody Jersusalem," Spike lamented at the shimmering wall. He remembered then, of the anti-spell of Willow's, but he looked down to see that his necklace was still unlit, though one more of the Slayers' had started to glow. "Let's just sit here and watch the show, then," He said with impatience.

"Oh, an audience. How lovely." The man who had cast the spell spoke in the same, flat droning tone. "Come to witness our glory, the birth of our unimaginable power, the beginning of the rites of time—"

"Ugh, if I have to hear one more word—does that barrier come with a sound suppression option, because you should really consider that next time." Buffy's perky, brazen tone came to light, her fearless show that she put on, particularly in front of the other Slayers. Pretending she never had fear, never hesitated, though they all did now. Waiting for the damn necklaces. See, this was why amulets were bad. They either turned perfectly good vampires into death and ash, only to bring them back as a ghost, or they did nothing at all.

"Watch. Power comes to be." The man continued, unfazed. He nodded to one of his associates, as the rest of them finished their mumbled recitation. "We will be reborn. Let the magic in the blood of the young begin our ascension."

One of the cloaked figures moved, and Spike recognized the curls that spilled from her hood, the one that Jade had called Fyora, who had taken the kids from the Haven Orphan. She brandished a long, sharp looking dagger in her thin hand. Jade noticed her in the same breath, breaking silence to call out, "Fyora! Don't do this." She echoed the same hopeless words from before, when the bitch had laughed at the holes in Jade and chained her to a wall. And they were hopeless now, but even Buffy and Kennedy didn't reprimand her for trying, only stared angrily at their talismans. The two Slayers whose necklaces were activated shuffled uncomfortably in their feet, waiting to be called to action. But Buffy had called them to be still. It was two against twenty. Spike silently urged Buffy to make the call. Hell, he'd do it. One against twenty, those ponces were nothing without their magic. Despite the fact that they were armed, but hell if these humans could stand to his strength.

"You know, I thought you might stop me when you came to the Orphanage that day. Thought you had figured it out. I was quite panicked. But you didn't have a clue, did you?" Fyora called out, cold and as mocking as the last time. "Let me take them right under your nose. So this is on you." The cloaked woman stopped in front of a small figure, small for her eleven years of age, with dark skin and unkempt, deeply curly hair. She hadn't made a sound, crying silently, but by the silence of all the other children as well, Spike had surmised that the silence spell was once more in effect. Not so for Jade, her agonized cry of "Neva!" rang out in the cavern just as Fyora took the blade of her dagger and ran it across the length of the child's throat.


	14. Chapter 13

**13**

She was having a hard time breathing. Geysers erupted, hot streams of steam and colored gas through the rock bed cracks. It was hot, too, the air thick. Jade could see that the other Slayers had noticed it as well, that their shallow breathing was a way to regulate it. The only one who seemed to have no troubles with it was Spike—but of course, he didn't need to breathe. He also no longer had a heartbeat, whereas hers had rocketed from the moment Spike warned them they were close. She had gripped her machete tightly in her grip, white-knuckled with the effort, feeling the smooth grain of the wooden handle, every fiber of the old, coarse rope wrapped around it. Her other arm was wrapped around her torso protectively, applying light pressure to her stomach, but the pain was just a dull throb. Duller, even, if she pushed it out of her mind. She had practice with that, she could fight, even with the pain. And she was ready for a fight. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Spike and the other Slayers, the sight of the children being chained to the rockbed was enough to fill her with fire.

There were so many, twice as many that the Orphanage held, but to her, only five of them mattered, or at least they mattered the most. The ones she hadn't been able to protect. The youngest, little Sophie, with her wide blue eyes and light blonde hair, that fell down in disarray, sticking to her chubby cheeks, the adhesive made from her tears. She was barely more than a toddler, not even five years old, and she was locked in manacles with the rest of them. From where she stood, Jade could see Gunner as well, the only boy of her orphanage that was taken, thin as a reed, the large spectacled glasses that he usually wore missing from where they would be propped on his nose. He was nine, with messy, droopy brown hair, and bright blue eyes. Normally, from where she stood they were only a shadow, as he stared blankly around him.

And then there was Neva. Jade had sought her out as soon as they had come into view, and she saw her now. Tears stained her cheeks, but she was calm, stone faced. Her black eyes looked out impassively, pretending to be steady, but Jade knew how terrified the girl must have been. She was one of the older ones, no child was older than twelve, and she was silently trying to soothe the hysteric children. Jade felt relief, then, as Neva's gaze rose to meet her own. The barely maintained despair gave away to hope, a wide smile spreading across her face as she mouthed Jade's name. Gratitude rushed through her body, her shoulders falling and heaving with relief. It wasn't over yet, but there was still a chance. There was always a chance while they were still alive.

Jade listened to Buffy with half an ear, her eyes focused on the cloaked figures, and when one began to move, one with the curls and small frame that belonged to Fyora, Jade called out to her. The relief that had began to bubble in her stomach gave away to desperation and then then a sickening despair. Helplessness coursed through her, as she looked pathetically at her necklace, the dull hue. Her heart beat so rapidly in her chest. Damnit, she was a Slayer. She was supposed to be like one of the heroes in the comic books she loved. She was supposed to swoop in and save them. She was supposed to save them all.

Instead, all Jade could do was watch Fyora slit Neva's throat. She stared in shocked silence while sound seemed to fade away. _I couldn't save you, and I couldn't save her_. Her thoughts ran in a twist in her mind, as the girl's small form crumpled, face first into the dirt and stone, her blood mixing with the dust, into the circle that led towards the Order. Horror then gave way to rage, a blinding fury that filled her body. She had been muted so long, though that she couldn't lose anything else, that she had lost enough to be numb to it all, but no. She could still lose. She could always lose. In that same instant, as Neva's lifeless body fell to the ground, the dull crystal of Jade's necklace began to glow. She could almost laugh with the absurdity, the teasing insanity of it all. How unfair. Just another thing in the world that was grossly unfair.

But it wasn't over yet. There was more than one person to save. And she sure as hell wasn't going to stand on this side of the barrier, watching while they slaughtered the rest. She hadn't even made the conscious decision to move forward, didn't even know she had screamed in rage until it was dying in her throat, but as she brandished her machete, she was rushing towards the clouded magic wall. She didn't hear Buffy shouting at Spike to hold her back until she felt a strong hand reach out, snagging her arm. Her forward momentum was immediately quelled as she was jerked back, only centimeters from the wall, from killing all of them. She was wheeled backwards to face Spike. For once, his expression was somber, not mocking, concern in his expression, actually feeling sorry for her.

"Let me go!" She growled, a desperate, urgent cry. Any reserve she had shown before, any control, was lost.

"Not good odds—" He started to say, that deplorable sympathy still shining in his light blue eyes. The arm he held had the machete, so she held up her empty hand in a fist, towards his chest.

"Let—" She had started to say, one last warning before she forcefully pulled her way back when startlingly, he suddenly released her, and she fell, regaining her balance in the last second, standing back straight up. Confused, she glanced up to Spike for an explanation. He had turned from her, in one smooth motion, pulling a talisman from one of the Slayers' necks, the one who had started to glow first, the one called Amelie, ripping his from his neck and throwing it back to her in one smooth motion. He dropped the glowing one around his head, a shining bauble that matched Jade's.

"Let's kill them all." He told her.

Ignoring Buffy's angry order of "Spike!" Jade glanced back at Spike, her stomach tightening, feeling something akin to gratitude, a warm feeling that almost quelled her rage. Then she nodded, and the two of them threw themselves into the barrier.

For a heartbeat, she was afraid that they'd simply be pushed back, that the necklaces wouldn't work, but with a humming sound that grew louder, it seemed to just part the magic around their bodies, and they made it through without incident, stepping through the wall, and before the dais that the Order stood upon. It was at a slight incline, and in perfect tandem, Spike and Jade leaped up to the stone circle, on equal ground to their oppressors. Jade's gaze was drawn first to Neva's lifeless body, tempted to run to her. But it wouldn't bring her back, and she couldn't lower her guard, not while they were severely outnumbered. The Order might just be humans without their magic, but she wouldn't underestimate them. She'd run her blade through them all.

Starting with Fyora.

"Kill them so we can complete the ritual." One spoke to the others, but if he meant Spike and Jade or the children, Jade didn't know. She jumped into the circle, standing in front of one of the chained kids, and she could see by the quick blur of movement that Spike had joined her, even quicker. One of the cloaked muttered words, raising her hand, and a fireball reigned through the air, right at Spike. Knowing that his kind was more susceptible to fire, Jade almost made a move to take it herself, but the amulets around their neck were meant to prevent exactly this thing. Besides, she had vengeance first.

She couldn't reach Fyora yet, but she wanted to. Instead, she took the moment to swing her blade—not at the Order, but at the child's chains to her left. One sure, strong sweep and with a satisfying clink, the chain snapped. The children were still bound to the stone by their remaining chains, but that could be changed. However, she wasn't going to get the chance. The passivity was over, and the Order rushed towards them. They weren't as unarmed as Jade might have hoped, she saw the flash of throwing knives that she raised her machete to block, and another came at her with a quarterstaff. The pain in her torso flared up briefly as she kicked at him with a heavy kick, but she pushed it from her mind. That was what all that training had been for, hadn't it. How to fight, even through agony. She had to have learned something from it all.

A couple of their enemies had stakes, and Jade looked with concern over at Spike, but she didn't need to bother. He was everywhere at once, an animal. His forehead had changed, the bulges visible, his eyebrows gone, the light scar that would have ran through his eyebrow ran through bare skin instead. The blue eyes that were so captivating had become a shimmering gold. She had seen his face before he had bitten her, but she had been dizzy, on the verge of unconsciousness. It made him look fierce, intimidating, and somehow captivating. She'd seen some ugly vamp-faced vampires, but he was intriguing, handsome even. And he moved with such leonine grace, quick, striking out with brutish punches, shouting profanities, glee as he danced around them. He was remarkable, and fearless. Jade seemed quite lesser next to him. Her strength was still diminished by the wounds she had sustained, and it had been a long time since she had been in a fight. She had all but avoided them since she had ran away to Haven. She was extremely fortunate Spike had jumped through the fire with her, for if she was lone, she would have been overpowered easily.

As it was, they were still outnumbered. And while they were fighting, Jade saw the flurry of motion as another child faceplanted to the ground, blood coming from his corpse. One of the Order was still carrying on with the sacrifice, and there were far too many between them for Jade to cross over. She shouted a hoarse, "No!" When the child's body fell. She tried to keep her eyes on the cloaked killer, but had to block another blow from a quarter-staff. Angry, she took once of the small throwing daggers from her belt and tried throw it through the crowd, but it was blocked by another figure who took it in the abdomen and then crumpled. Jade returned her attention to the one she was fighting, kicking at his knee and when he stumbled, she spun her elbow into his throat. Without their magic, they were no stronger, and the man fell back, still. She didn't quite think she had killed him, nor did she need to.

As the quarter-staffed man fell, one stepped up to take his place. Fyora. Rage surged through her blood, but before Jade had a chance to attack, she heard Fyora's muttered " _Da mihi vim_ ," electricity cracking in her fingers. Jade braced herself for the hit, but the spell wasn't directed at her. Brandishing a knife, Fyora kicked out at Jade. Jade was waiting for the kick, but she didn't expect the strength behind it as it connected with her thigh, pushing her back as she spun backwards, down to the ground. Her leg ached, and she realised that Fyora must have increased her strength somehow—with that spell. She remembered Willow saying that their necklaces only negated the magic used directly at them, and not the magic used in proximity. With a groan, Jade rose to her feet, pushing away one of the Order as he surged towards her. She wanted Fyora, who stood there with the knife in her hand. The knife, Jade realised, was still covered in blood. Neva's blood. Jade flung herself at Fyora with a fury, ignoring the throbbing in her leg, the ache in her stomach.

"You made a mistake, picking Neva first." Jade told her, her slow circle with Fyora being interrupted by the rest of her oppressors. Though most of their attention was focused on Spike, there were still too many that could still fight. Jade struck hard at one, hearing the satisfying and sickening crunch as she broke their leg. Kicking them away, she looked back at Fyora, who was shrugging, her expression impassive, except for a little smirk on her lips.

"It makes no difference, Jade. They'll all die anyway."

"Your Order? Yes. The children, no." Blade met blade as she swung her machete upwards, deflected by the long, vicious looking dagger.

"You're not one of them, you know." Fyora told her, kicking out at her stomach, which Jade avoided with a spin. "You may be a Slayer, but you don't fit among superheroes."

"That's alright. It just means I don't have to spare you." Jade returned. She moved to block another swipe of the deadly dagger when she was pulled from behind by one of the Order. Caught off balance, she felt Fyora's blade go unhindered into her skin, slicing a long stretch up her forearm. It stung, from her elbow up to her wrist, but Jade ignored it, kicking out with her leg, but to her dismay, Fyora caught it between her hands, holding her firm. There was a snap as Fyora twisted Jade's ankle out, and the pressure from behind her by one of the Order made Jade drop her machete. Jade saw Fyora's dagger approach her, her neck its target, and she wondered if this was the end, then. _I'll be with you soon, Bennett_. She didn't close her eyes, watched the gleam of the approaching blade. She deftly struggled against the arms that held her. She saw Spike, meters away, facing down far more than she was. Too far away to help.

"Don't worry, Fyora. You'll join me in hell soon," Jade told her, but as the words left her lips, she was proven wrong. A crossbow bolt whistled through the air at top speed, sinking into Fyora's heart, sprouting from her chest. The blade clattered to the floor as she did, and with the sound of impact, the man who was holding Jade was lifted off of her. Jade fell to the ground, landing on her behind, and she turned to see who had entered the fray. It was Buffy, Kennedy, and two more of the Slayers, their talismans glowing. Kennedy was already reloading her crossbow, and Buffy had joined Spike. With his new backup, he was handily beating them back now, and he and Buffy were agile and adept, like they were dancing together.

A gurgling at her feet drew Jade's attention back to Fyora. Blood was pouring from her body, but she was still alive. She had fallen face first, not unlike Neva, and as Jade pushed herself up to reach her, she felt the sticky thick feel of blood. She glanced down at her hand, pale and covered in crimson, reminding her of her dream. She gripped Fyora, forcing her to a sitting position. Blood dripped down her lip, past her chin, a bit smeared on her cheekbone from when she felt in the dirt. All the anger Jade had felt was slowly draining away. Fyora was going to die, there was no saving her. And that was good. But it was such a waste. All for nothing. Neva for nothing. Her voice trembling with fury, she asked, "Why?"

"We all have a purpose," Fyora gasped out in painful breaths. "This was mine. I'm sorry." Whispering the same words she had from Jade's dream, her convulsing grew still as the life leaked out of her. She was dead. Jade had won.

Even if it didn't feel like it.


	15. Chapter 14

**14**

Oh, he had missed this. Certainly the action wasn't the reason he had left the Slayer Organization behind, because the truth was, they knew where the fights were. If Buffy hadn't been stringing his heart around, he might actually have stayed. For this, the rush, the blood. While it was admittedly a bad idea to follow after Jade, in a fight where they were clearly outnumbered, the odds were what enticed him the most. He was a fighter. It had fueled all his years as a vampire, and he was damned good at it. Killed two Slayers on his own, didn't he? He was strong and fast, and he loved it. Even the pain. Loved seeing blood spray the air, even if some of it was his. Getting back his soul hadn't deprived him of that glee, though he had to pick his targets a bit clearer now. And while the Order seemed fully human, it seemed to him anyone that was about to drain some kiddies to buff up their power sources, they didn't deserve to walk away from this alive. Or at least not with working legs.

It hadn't taken him much to convince him to follow Jade. Hell, he probably would have ran in there already had his talisman worked. But as soon as he saw that she was going to force her way in, alone or not, well it had been a simple thing to nip the necklace from that Slayer, and toss back his own. Her stuttered exclamation of "Hey!" was lost in his ears. He had one plan, and that was making these sons of bitches pay for the children they had tried to kill. And the one who already laid dead. He couldn't match the anguish he had heard in Jade's voice, but his own chest had tightened with anger. He didn't like losing, he didn't like getting there too late. He was new to the whole heroes gig. He spent more than a hundred years being the baddie, and only a couple trying to make up for it, but he couldn't quite dampen the irritation he felt when he just didn't make it in time. And damn Buffy, who was still protecting her team. Who didn't want to sacrifice a few, she wanted to save everyone. But one was already dead. And if there was a fight, he'd rush head on into it.

And that's what he was doing now. As soon as the talisman proved that it would indeed work, an innate sense of dark elation spread through his bones. Oh, he'd make them pay alright. He meant what he said to Jade, and the answering relief he saw in her eyes only increased his impetus. _Let's kill them all_.

He had thrown himself into the mix. He had no weapons; he didn't need them. His face morphed, with it the delicious feeling of strength and power. His teeth hardened, elongating, and they were ready to rip through flesh. Not to drink, not any more. He was on a steady blood of pig's blood, and had been for quite a while. But if any vampire said that weakened him, he was more than willing to have them take him on to prove it.

Spike almost laughed when the fireball engulfed him, only to do nothing. Magically imbued, it was useless with this shiny necklace around his neck. Instead, he smiled wickedly at the figures before him. Even with their hoods draped over their face, he could see the fear. He could still draw that out. Good. He wasn't quite sure when their brief stalemate had ended, where they had looked down their enemies, for the second of peace was gone, exploding into violence. He threw himself into the crowd, his muscles flexing and straining with each powerful punch. He wrestled a quarterstaff from one of them, jamming it into another's throat, fighting off the staves they honestly thought they had a chance of impaling him with. He was an animal here, fast and vicious. Not quite as bloody as the soulless Spike was, if they fell to the floor and didn't get back up, he left them. He didn't tear out throws or rip off heads, but he didn't pull his punches either. He heard the snaps and breaks of bones.

He was fast, but he wasn't quite fast enough. There were enough of them that he took blows of his own. But he had never been all that good at dodging, he was all about enduring. He'd gotten himself beat to shambles quite a few times, his ass damn right kicked, but sometimes that just made it more fun. Still, he was getting beat back a bit more now, when he tumbled into someone that pulled him from behind, wrapping rope around his throat. He smacked his head back, hitting his skull into their nose. He heard a satisfying crunch, but while his attention was diverted from the front, he felt two of them reach out towards his legs, pulling them from under them. Before he could rip them free, one of them plunged a dagger into his thigh, and he roared. Ignoring the pain, and the blood surging from his leg, he pulled himself free, falling to the ground. He rolled out of the way of a stake, kicking at one of his enemies with his good leg, using enough force to send them flying through the ground. He rose to his feet quickly enough, ignoring the ache in his leg, though he growled a bit at the feel of it.

However, they were starting to lose, with just the two of them. One stake was shoved into his body, just barely missing his heart. He struck them away with enough force that they crumpled and didn't get up again, but it _hurt_. "Bloody hell," He shouted, throwing the bloody stake at one of the Order, eliciting a howl as they took it to the shoulder and stumbled. He tried to glance through the fray at Jade, who he had barely seen since the fight started. She was still on her feet, but barely. As he saw her, she was suddenly pulled back, the dagger poised to take her life. He struggled aptly to near her, but was stopped by another enemy, eager to throw herself at him. He felt a burning regret, an animalistic fury. And guilt. He hadn't brought her here, hell, he hadn't encouraged it, and he had tried to stop her from entering the fight without the other Slayers, but he still felt responsible. He couldn't save her, and that was a blow.

However, he didn't need to. He heard their footsteps first, breath in their mouths, hearts beating more than his would ever again. And one he recognized, by scent first. Buffy. She had come through, with three more. So she had broken her rule after all, with only half the group. But it didn't matter. They could beat them now. Jade and he had put up a hell of a fight, and Buffy, well. She was the strongest of them all. She jumped to him first, and words to help Jade died in his throat as he saw Kennedy got there first. He managed a smile at Buffy as she leapt in with an energetic kick.

"Miss me, did you?" He teased with a long drawl, striking out at the remaining enemy.

"Spike, you're an idiot," She said flatly, but he could see concern in her green gaze as she looked at the blood he had collected from his own wounds. Other than a few blows to his face, a trickling line of blood down his nose that always seemed to be targeted, and the two heavier wounds he had sustained, he was right as rain.

"Never said I wasn't," He told her with a fanged grin.

They were beating them back, until only three of the Order remained upright, and more Slayers had joined in.

"I think you're out of space, Mate." Spike said in a smirk, fierce but languid. The three looked at each other, one he recognized as the one who had been lecturing them, about his big power and whatnot. But instead of looking intimidated, the man looked contemptuous and triumphant, down at his feet. There had been grooves in the dirt, and blood had gathered there, from the children who had been slain. Pooling at their feet, it looked like the three remaining were exactly where they wanted to be.

"Careful," Buffy was warning. She had seen it too, but her scythe was ready in her hands, to bury it in their bodies if she had a chance. She wasn't even hurt, just a bit of dirt on her face, but it made her seem all the more sexy. Or maybe it was just that they were in the midst of a fight, and blood still ran in his veins, thick with adrenaline.

"We will have power." The man warned, beginning a chant. The Slayers moved forward, but the chant wasn't that longlived, and with a _"P_ _erficere conversionem_ _!"_ There was a flash of light, a loud growling, and standing before them were not three cloaked Order quavering in their little booties but three large, intimidating looking demons, with black skin and blue spikes, that stood well over Spike's height. They were certainly something. He didn't recognize the demon type himself, but he wasn't exactly an expert. He didn't look them up in ancient tones to get off like some people did. Wesley crossed his mind, the way that man was sticking his nose into every possible book, and he felt a twinge of remorse that the man was dead. He would have liked to see this, toting his shotgun.

"Oh, so that's what they were trying to do," Spike commented in a lackadaisical tone, though he was slightly innerved by having to look up to see the newly made demons in their glory. Definitely some power there. They had killed enough children to see the conversion through, although most of the children were still alive. The Slayers had already moved to release them, breaking through their chains and ushering them behind so they could be safe.

"Stay together," Buffy was commanding her Slayers. "Let's put them down."

Her Slayers did as she said, grouping together. Even Jade, Spike noticed, who was back on her feet, despite being covered in blood. He could tell from the scent that it wasn't all hers. She looked determined, catching his glance with a quick, small smile. He could still see the energy burning in her eyes. She had felt the high of battle too, and she had fought well, despite her injuries. Spike had a long time to work up his resistance to pain, but it seemed he wasn't the only one. And he was definitely not out of this fight, despite the newly gored hole in his leg. When Buffy gave the order to fight, he was gleefully in the front.

And narrowly dodged a large, crystallized fist that threw another Slayer so far she flew through the barrier. A hit like a mack truck, it looked like, but Spike had taken blows like that before. From Illyria, before she had been weakened somewhat. Although that hitting hard thing, she hadn't dropped that so easily. He stuck himself forward, landing a blow on one of the towering demon's torso.

And promptly yelled an "Ow!", cradling his knuckles. Okay, so it was like hitting something very, very tough. Metal could usually bend beneath his strikes, but this seemed a bit harder than that. Perhaps weaponless wasn't the way to go. He jumped back to avoid the demon's answering blow, landing a bit clumsily. He felt hands steady him, pressed to his shoulder blades, just missing where the stake had been driven in him. He looked back, seeing Jade's answering blue eyes, and the strength in her hands, despite grabbing him delicately. "At least there's not twenty of them, right?" She said with a twitch of amusement on her lips, letting him go as he stood on his own. And it had likely been their plan, after all. Draining two kiddies a piece to fuel the transformation.

"Would have been more fun that way," He said, as the two of them jumped to their left to avoid another Slayer being thrown through the air. This one hit the ground hard, letting out a cry as she dislocated her shoulder. They had all their Slayers now, and it was damn good for it, because these demons were definitely a pain in the ass. This wouldn't be an easy put down, that was for sure.

But at least it would be fun.


	16. Chapter 15

**15**

She was damn lucky the talismans had lit when they had, that Kennedy and Buffy and the rest of the slayers had managed to join the fight. Jumping when she had had put Jade and Spike at risk, particularly the children. Although it was arguable that if she hadn't come in when she did there would have been nothing to delay the Order from slaughtering the kids, and more would lay dead at her feet. As it was, they hadn't managed to save them all. Most of the children now huddled behind the seasoned, less wounded Slayers, but six—no, seven were still, in pools of their own blood. Jade was relieved to know that the rest of the kids from Haven were okay. She met Lisa's dark eyes, the small Chinese girl who was only a year younger than Neva, and they had gotten along well. Jade had seen the both of them ecstatic that they would be adopted at the same time. If only. She was more put together than the younger Rachel, whose normally buoyant blonde curls had long since deflated, a mess and a tangle, but she was clinging to the calmer Lisa, and both of them seemed unharmed. Which was more than Jade could say about herself. Her stinging arm was the least of her problems, and the cracking of her ankle hurt, but it didn't feel broken. It was her torso that hurt the most, and she was pretty sure she had ripped open the tentative scabbing.

But she was ready, as were the rest of the Slayers. A few of them had assumed form in front of her as well, a thin line between the demons and the rest of the children. Jade readied her machete, but after Spike smacked it, she had a feeling the metal of her blade wouldn't stand up to it too well, and she buckled it back to her waist. Her hands were free as she reached them out to catch Spike, slowing his momentum a bit as he jumped to avoid the demon's hardy blow. She felt a bit of his blood seep onto her fingers as she gripped him. She had the urge to wrap her arms further around him, an embrace. He definitely deserved one, for helping her, but these were treacherous thoughts in a fight, and she let go of him immediately. They had a fight first, and she had a feeling they wouldn't be as easy to kill as the humans they had been before. And not all the Order were dead, most of them just wounded badly and unconscious. Which was a far better fare than the children they had already slaughtered.

"Our weapons aren't doing much, Buffy." One of the Slayers called out, who held a crossbow like Kennedy did. Both their bolts had just deflected dimly off of the rock-hard crystallized skin of the demons, doing very little. Throwing knives had similar effects, just clinking uselessly as they fell. And fists weren't doing very much either. Except on the demons' side, each punch they managed to land tossed the Slayers like they were a Frisbee. The one who dislocated her shoulder was pulling herself to her feet, face a mask of pain as she tried to twist her arm back properly, but she wouldn't be at top form any more. _And they tried to make twenty of these?_ Jade thought in dismay. They were damned lucky the Order hadn't gotten the chance. But they still had three to worry about, and even with the twelve Slayers there, the barrier was still standing. The Slayers could get out, but the children couldn't. They had to make their stand here.

"Their skin is too damn tough." Kennedy affirmed with a grunt, loading her crossbow with another bolt, though it was likely just as fruitless. Jade was thankful to her. Kennedy had saved her life, even helped her up after she had let Fyora's lifeless body fall to the ground. So she was impudent, but she was full of chutzpah, and a strong warrior. She had helped Jade despite their indifferences and distrust. Jade doubted they would be friends any time soon, but at least it was less likely she was going to be forced against the wall with Kennedy's hand at her throat again. That is, if they survived this.

"Can you hit their eyes?" Jade asked her, and Kennedy gave her an affronted look, paired with defensive hesitation. Kennedy's arrogance would say yes, but her pride didn't want to be wrong.

"Maybe if they stayed still for a second," Kennedy shrugged, tapping her tongue to her top teeth. "Then yeah, you bet."

"Then we hold them down," Buffy said in a matter-of-fact tone, stepping to where Kennedy and Jade were. She looked ahead to Spike, who glanced back at the blonde, catching her gaze. Jade couldn't help feeling a little envious whenever she saw that look on Spike's face, as if there was nothing in the universe but Buffy. Buffy returned the gaze, though where there was affection in Spike's gaze, there was only determination in hers. "You up for that?" She challenged Spike, who answered with a fanged smirk.

"Always, luv." He answered, smarmy. He passed his tongue across his bottom lip as he did so, tasting the blood that had come from his split lip. Buffy rolled her eyes briefly, but Jade had a hard time denying it was attractive, even from a vamp-face. They had to focus. The Slayers were dancing around like rabbits, staying free, but they couldn't go too far without leaving the kids defenseless, having to keep a certain angle to stay inbetween them. And they hadn't managed any offensive strikes either. Until now.

The Slayers advanced, barely any space inbetween them. Jade's shoulders brushed with Kennedy's and Spike's. Buffy was on the other side of the blonde vampire, just as close, holding the scythe tightly in her hands. As they neared the demons, who no longer growled in English, Kennedy, and the two other Slayers with crossbows held back, waiting to get their shot in. It left the rest of the Slayers, eight of them and a vampire, to stop the other ones enough to get a solid shot off. That is, if their eyes weren't made of the hard crystal as well, and Jade was sincerely hoping they weren't. The Slayers flew forward in tandem, a force that was used to fighting together, while Jade lagged behind, and Spike went at his normal face-first manner, lunging straight at them.

Jade's breath caught in her throat in a hiss as Spike was batted away, and he fell heavily to the ground, but he bounced up immediately, unhurt, bouncing on his feet as if he was a boxer, not fazed in the least. The rest of them weren't faring so well. The demons were strong, terribly so. It took most of them to hold them down, and then the other two demons could throw the Slayers off as if they were pesky mosquitoes. It was during this fight that two of them picked a Slayer right out of the air, with one demon pulling at her arms and another at her legs, she let out an anguished, gargling cry as Jade realised they were trying to actually pull her apart before their eyes. But before they could finish it, they seemed to hesitated, and the Slayers jumped to her rescue, knocking the demons with enough strength that the Slayer fell to the ground, still in one piece, if not barely, blood dribbling from her mouth. But in recompense, one of the rescuing Slayers, a younger looking girl, not more than a year or two younger than Jade was caught by the third demon, her head simply snapped the wrong way in one easy gesture, and her body crumpled, lifeless. "Hannah!" One of the other Slayer's cried, but she was gone.

A grim silence had fallen over the Slayers now, as they pulled back the Slayer who had nearly been ripped in two, their numbers already becoming diminished, and they were getting no closer to killing the Order demons.

"Do _not_ let yourself get caught." Buffy warned, her tone harsh and reprimanding, but it was a commander's cover. She felt responsible, grief even, for those lost under her command. But the ones living were more important, so she would be cold towards them now, keep them on their guard. So they wouldn't end up like Hannah, her brown eyes wide open, blonde curls spread beneath her, forever still. Jade tightened her hands into fists. So far she hadn't done much but serve as distraction, staying just far enough away. Spike had certainly taken most of the damage, bleeding all over from shallow cuts from the creatures' sharp edges from their tough skin. He was panting, even though he didn't need to breathe, his body creating the movements anyway, a cut across his nose, another one under his left eye. He hadn't stopped, continuing to strike at them as hard as he could, but it wasn't doing much. It was hurting him more than then them. They could do anything. Rip them apart in seconds if they wanted to. Or not quite seconds. They had stopped before tearing that one Slayer apart. They were doing it, and then they hesitated. Why?

She aimed a kick at one of the demons, which hurt her foot more than anything else, and she hopped away, to few safe meters. She panted. This was getting nowhere. Kennedy and the other bowmen were doing their best, but they simply couldn't hold them down long enough to get a good shot. She saw a shimmering from the corner of her eyes, and saw that the barrier was beginning to fluctuate. The Order were no longer holding their spells in place, so the barrier started to dissipate. Where the children behind them were absolutely silent, sniffles, sobs and gasps were heard. The silence spell was beginning to wear off as well. It started to give her hope. They could run, couldn't they? As soon as the barrier was down, they could take the children and run.

But, no. They couldn't run from these creatures. Her hope was gone as soon as a sickening crunch sounded and a cry split the air, as a Slayer fell to the ground, blood spewing from her mouth and her stomach as a heavy foot from one of the Demons crushed down on her torso. She let out a whimpering cry, which tapered off. Jade watched that same demon hesitate, shaking its large head almost unperceptively, before bringing his foot all the way down, cutting through her completely. He had stopped too, for a second. Why was that?

"Ariana, I need you to take the children and lead them down the tunnels. Kennedy will tell Willow to open up the portal. At least they'll be able to get out of here." Buffy was telling one of her Slayers. Blood was on Buffy's lip now too, a bruise forming on her defined cheekbones. Urgency was in her tone. No matter what happened to the Slayers, the children would live. And yet another Slayer would be out, they'd be down to seven and a vampire that could actually fight. There was no way they could win this battle. She was missing something. Missing something. The thought stole its way into her head, crawling in there. That's right, there was something she overlooked. Think, she had to think.

The children were getting round up, crying still. Crying. What about crying? She saw a flash of white hair as Spike dashed in close, landed a few blows on the torso, and danced back. He had done the same dance half a dozen times by now, but this time, he was slower, weaker on one of his legs. He stumbled, only slightly, but it was enough for them to catch him. He was one of the tallest of the Slayers, but the demon picked him up easily, within its two hands, encapsulating Spike with its tight grip. "Hurry!" Buffy was saying to Ariana, but then turned around just as quickly, crying out "Spike!" Crying. Jade looked at the children as they were being pulled to their feet. Cry. Answer their cry. The words from her dream. The prophecy, the nursery rhyme, whatever the hell it was. It meant something. What did it mean?

There was a crack as Spike's ribs began to break under the crushing grip. The Slayers were there, Buffy was there, but they couldn't free him this time. One of the other Demons moved closer, in an easy, quick position to tear off Spike's head. Spike. She had just met him, but he had captivated her. A Vampire with a soul. An outsider, like her, who had called Haven home. His face had reverted to its human side, his forehead smooth and his teeth smaller, and he glared defiantly into death. It'd be death for all of them. Unless she could answer the cry. What did that even mean? It's not as if they'd been able to speak all this time, the children had been silenced. Maybe that had just been for personal preference, but what if it hadn't been? Jade's mind worked furiously, but to her horror, she saw the demon get even closer. There was no hesitation this time. No shrill sound in the air to distract them. Wait, what? Shrill sound. A shrill cry. Jade had picked the eyes as a weakness, the only thing not covered by their tough skin, but what if there was another weakness. She couldn't see them exactly, but what if they had ears? They were responding to sound, after all, there must be a slit in their armor. And the only times they had hesitated, even for a second, was when someone was screaming. _Answer their cry_. Oh, she could be wrong. So wrong. The dream had given her so many things that didn't make sense, but the children had been chained, had been drained. Some of them had died. And answer the cry.

"Wait!" She shouted out to Ariana. "Don't lead them away." She spoke loudly, louder than she was used to. No, she had to scream. "We need to shout. Scream. Everyone!" She yelled as loud as she could, heads turning away from Spike. Even the Demon's. "As loud and as shrill as you possibly can. Kids too." And then with all the breath she had in her diaphragm, Jade screamed.

Black and blue crystal fingers wrapped around Spike's pale neck, encircling his throat. Rachel's cry sounded first, the children following suit. Lisa's normally quiet voice, but for her, she screamed. Buffy shouted, a karate sounding yell more than anything else, Kennedy's joining hers.

The fingers stopped, no longer tightening. The three demons began shaking their heads uncontrollably, as if to shake it off. Spike's "Don't bloody kill me!" Shout pierced the fray. The fingers loosened. Still shouting, Buffy was there, leaping forward and grabbing him, and together, the two of them tumbled to the ground, free. The demons began scratching at their faces, where the ear holes could be. Jade took a breath, only to shout, "Keep going!" And together, they screamed, a horrible piercing sound, but it was doing more damage to the demons than to the humans, although Spike had started covering his ears to protect himself from the sound.

Jade could see him and Buffy, with Buffy still on top of him, their limbs entangled. Jade watched the moment that passed between the two of them, when Spike stopped scowling from the sound, looking wistfully up at Buffy, blood dripping from his earnest face. It was a moment of peace in battle, and Buffy swayed, as if she might turn in towards him, but instead climbed up off him, towards their enemy. "Now!" Buffy commanded, and her Slayers fell on the demons. They were still enough. Kennedy's bolt flew from her crossbow, burying itself in one of their eyes, and the demon fell to its feet.

Holding one of the throwing knives in her hand, Jade gripped it tightly and ran towards one of the beasts, which was getting held down by Spike and Buffy. Reaching its forehead, Jade aimed for the eye, sinking her blade as far as it would go, twisting it until a light blue blood sprayed her. A choking sound came from it, and when it slumped to the ground, it didn't move. The Slayers stood for a moment, ready to end the demons again if they even stirred, but no. They were dead. The screaming and shouting ended, leaving them in silence. It was over. They were safe.


	17. Chapter 16

**16**

He was alive. Okay, so not really. He was undead, which was his quite normal status, but the fact of the pleasant matter was his head being still very attached to his body. He had honestly thought he was going to die for a second, and the maddening truth of it all was he hadn't even been able to turn to look at Buffy as it was happening. But he _had_ heard her crisp cry hit the air, how beautifully anguished and full of concern it was. So she did care. She might act like she didn't, pretend with that favorite judging expression of hers where she arched an eyebrow and pursed those sulky lips, but he had heard the pain in her call. She cared. She had damn well only admitted it when he was about to die, though, and that was a bit of a problem. But it was there, no denying that. And hey, he was still here. They hadn't bested him, not yet, although the screaming of a bunch of children and young women at the top of their lungs nearly did him in. That was something he'd very much like to scrub from his memory. But the truth of it all was that it _had_ saved him. And it had been Jade. Whatever gave her the bloody idea to turn the Slayers into a bunch of screaming banshees, he didn't know. But it had worked.

And as soon as his ears stopped ringing, he'd thank her. And maybe after his bones corrected themselves a little bit. Sure, he could survive his ribs being crushed in demon-boy's grip, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. And Buffy landing on him hadn't been all that healthy, although he hadn't really noticed it in that second. What had mattered was her, that giddy relief in her green eyes, and that smile trembling on her lips that he was still alive. He bloody well would have kept her there, pain or not, but duty had called her again, and she had leapt off of him to join the fight. Not one to be outdone, Spike pushed himself to his feet. He peeled away the pain so he could join the others, all too willing to help deliver death to the demons personally. And it felt good. They weren't going to get up again. Not. A. Chance. And so he was quite animated in hitting one of the suckers that were already down, and yes, it did hurt his knuckles again, prompting a "Bloody hell!" Leaving him to nurse his bleeding hand, but it was worth it. And it was a hell of a fight, wasn't it.

"That was fun, eh?" He said to Buffy, who was standing near enough to him their shoulders would brush if he just leaned in, and boy he wanted to, especially when she looked back at him, that same fire in her eyes, the same excitement. She might deny it, but there was an exhilaration from battle, and she felt it, like he did. Maybe not as much, but it made her seem all the more alive. She smiled back at him, not one of those barely-tolerating, but a real, indulging grin, and then suddenly it was gone. A look clouded her gaze as it flickered past him, to the dead Slayers and children gathered on the ground.

"Right. Maybe not that much fun," He said softly, quieter, as way in apology. She always took it hard, didn't she. Every Slayer she lost under her command, despite the fact was that what they were for. That's what they _did_. They fought until their last breath. That's just what Slayers were. But Buffy, being Buffy, always taking responsibility for everything. So damn serious, so much on her plate. Not enough room for Spike. She stepped past him without saying anything, but just as he was about to sigh, he felt her touch, very brief, very soft, her hand on his shoulder before she stepped away to care for the fallen. He perked up, following her as she stepped away, and cursed himself. One little touch and he was like putty in her hands. All this time apart—this time by his choice—and it hadn't changed anything. He was still her bitch, wasn't he. And was he anything more than a soldier to Buffy? It damn well didn't seem like it. Except when she did things like that.

He was shaken from his reverie by a small form tackling his leg. Thankfully, it wasn't the injured one, so he managed to keep his balance well enough, and he peered down at the little girl who was hugging him with all of her might. No longer bound by the chains, she wrapped her grubby hands around him quite fiercely, and Spike made no attempts to dislodge her, although he did bare a sigh. Any semblance Spike had of being scary was apparently long gone. Now even children were hugging him. How far the big bad had fallen. It was just plain depressing. "Thank you, thank you." The small kid proclaimed.

"Uh. No problem, little tyke. Here to help." Spike said awkwardly. He didn't know what _he_ had done exactly, although he was bleeding plenty, and had quite a few bruised and cracked bones that stood to his heroics. He was a champion, after all. She was a small thing, with a mess of goldilocks hair. He couldn't quite see her face until she lifted her chin, her eyes shining with little tears, and bottom lip trembling.

"Rachel." He looked up from the ground to hear Jade's voice, stepping through the crowd. The Slayer was looking down at the children, and he realised then that this tyke—Rachel, was one of the ones that was taken from Haven. Well that explained why she clung to him—a little. He had seen the kids on the night they were taken, although in all honesty, he did little else than get knocked down stairs. But he had tried to help, and perhaps that was what mattered. And there was the fact that he was a rather handsome man, but at six or seven, she was a bit young for a crush. She let go at Jade's call, mumbling another teary thanks before tottering over to Jade. Spike watched the Slayer stiffen at Rachel's pudgy arms stretch up towards her.

"You can walk," Jade said, not unkindly, avoiding the gesture to pick up the child. "Go stand over with Lisa, okay?" As the child tottered away, Jade's gaze glanced back up to Spike, and she stepped closer. "You look like hell," She remarked.

"Who? Me? Right as rain, thank you very much. Could go at least five more rounds."

"Oh yeah. Me too." She nodded, the same blasé confidence in her tone, mischievous.

"Look." He said, with enough hesitation that her mocking smile died on her lips, curiosity making their way into her eyes. "I don't know about whatever kind of hullabaloo you pulled out of your… pocket," He added the last word with a censored pause. "But I'm grateful. For the you know, me not being dead. Well, dead again bit. Keeping this very handsome head on this very sexy body. So." He dipped his head. "Thank you."

Jade nodded, giving him a light, embarrassed smile and a nod of her own. "Yeah. No problem. I'm just glad this is over."

"You got that right. Be nice to sit and relax with a beer and watch some telly." Spike rolled his shoulder, wincing from the stab of pain that followed. Damn, having ribs hurt. That'd take a bit of time to heal, and hell he deserved a drink or two. Or several.

He saw something flicker across her face, which she promptly covered with curiosity. "Are you coming back to Haven, then? After all this?"

He shrugged. That was where his home was, after all. He wasn't about to stick around where he wasn't wanted or needed. Sure, Buffy had called on him to help, but the blonde better not get any ideas, this wasn't a full contract thing, this was a guest-star appearance. But before he could answer, he heard Kennedy's annoyingly bossy tone break the air. "Let's move the children out. Willow's reopening the portal." She was beginning to lead the children away when Spike heard a throat clearing from behind him. He turned to see Buffy.

"Spike. Help me with this?" She gestured to her fallen Slayers, and Spike nodded as the crowd began to clear, the children stepping off of the dais and down into the single tunnel. He glanced to see Jade still standing there, hesitating for a moment. A few calls had come from the children for her attention, and she glanced from them to him, as if waiting for something, but he didn't rightly know what.

"See you on the other side." He told Jade, who took a breath and nodded.

"Yeah." She stepped away, following the other Slayers, with a small Asian girl and the curly blonde who had hugged Spike's legs. She took a few steps, and then paused, stepping over to where the young black girl that Jade called Neva had died. Jade lifted up the small body in her arms, before disappearing into the crowd. He couldn't see her expression, but he had heard the pain in her voice when the child had been killed. Fond of children or not, she had cared. Hell, it wasn't easy for Spike to see either, and he had seen many a slaughtered child. Did just as many himself. It wasn't a new sight for him. But with his bloody soul, it wasn't so easy to see any more. Perhaps it was right this way, but it didn't seem any easier.

He took one of the limp Slayers in his arms, scowling a bit at the pain in his side as he lifted up the burden. She was bloody from where the demon had stepped its foot through her stomach, but Spike wasn't one to be peckish around blood. And if it got on his clothes, so what? They were pure black, and not to mention already slick with his own.

Buffy hoisted up the other one, directing her Slayers to collect the childrens' bodies as well. "The Order can stay here. I'll have the coven deal with them later." Most of them were dead, but a few still lived; he could hear their heartbeats, as shallow as they were. She told her charges, who nodded. There was a somber layer that bothered Spike. They had won, they should be celebrating. It was a hell of a fight. But they were all despairing and sad about the ones they had lost. Which was no way to carry on. Life never got easier, especially not as a Slayer. If this bothered them, they'd never be able to handle it in the long run. Though, they were young. They weren't like Spike, hadn't seen half the things he had.

"Are you okay? If you're hurt, you don't have to—" Buffy had stepped up to him, Hannah's head on her shoulder. Buffy held the woman easily, despite her being larger than Buffy herself, but the blonde was strong. Always had been. Hell, she'd probably be able to carry Spike out of here if he was wounded enough. Not that he would let her. Bloke's got to have some pride.

"I got it, love." He assured her in an even tone, giving her a reassuring smile. She blinked those large, damning green eyes of hers, nodding back. Not even a smile of her own. Damn frustrating, this cloud over everyone's head.

As they made their way down the tunnel, the portal was already opened, and the last of the children were walking through. Jade was already gone, as were most of the Slayers. Buffy and he approached the portal.

"Home sweet home, then, eh Slayer?" Spike commented to her, nearing the green gateway.

"It could be." Buffy piped up, swinging towards him, just a couple of feet away. They were the only ones in the cavern now, after she nodded for one of the Slayers to step through. "Look, Spike…" She sighed, glancing down at the young woman she held in her arms, and the one that Spike held in his. "You were a big help. You were someone I can count on. Are. I know you left, but I think you should consider staying."

"Staying?" He said with a mirthless laugh. "I'm not the one that left, Buff, not really. I was there the whole way, and you just—"

"I'm not talking about then. I know what you… want. And I can't say that that's going to happen, now or if ever. But, Spike. We could really use you. I could use you." She took a step towards him, with those damn persuading green eyes of hers. "You're just going to hide out in a basement flat and pretend all the good you've ever done never happened?"

"Hey, that's not fair." Spike protested. "It has happened. And I don't need to be with you to do good. I think I've proven that a few times. But you don't really want _me_ , Buffy. You want another soldier."

"I want another _friend_. And maybe… something else someday. I don't know." She was so damn frustrating, with her uncertainty. Hanging his heart one way and the other. "So what do you say?" Buffy asked after a pause. "Will you stay?"


	18. Chapter 17

**17**

It was time to go home. The last two days had passed by easily enough. After they got the children back to the hotel, it was rest and eating that followed. The children were still traumatized—as they should be, but the atmosphere they were brought to did them good. It had benefited Jade as well. Now, as she was getting ready to pack it up and return to Haven, her stomach wounds were almost healed. It would be still be a few days yet, maybe even a week, but it no longer pained her as much. Willow had helped with that, which Jade had contributed to gratitude or maybe as compunction, with the latter being due to Kennedy's treatment of Jade when she had told them about Sophie. Or perhaps that she had lost Neva. Jade had said nothing about it, but the Slayers who were there had treated her kindly enough, and even Buffy had refrained from making any more remarks. The blonde had simply let her be, which did well for Jade's rest. She wasn't one of the Slayers, who had duties and obligations and things to do. She had been a guest, as the children were.

But they were slowly being returned to their homes, and Jade was taking her Orphanage's children today. It was found that some of the children taken had families, those that missed them, not all were Orphans like Sophie, Rachel, Lisa and Gunner. Those would return with her. Well, most of them. As soon as the red-headed witch had seen Sophie, she had quite visibly melted, and Sophie, the endearing child that she was, had returned the affection in spades. Willow had decided to keep Sophie with her for the time being, whether it was just because Sophie was in need of a loving family, or because she was Tara's family—though slightly stretched—Jade was glad the young girl had found a home. The little Maclay girl didn't deserve to be abandoned because her family was superstitious about demons, and the way her own mother had died, possessed by one.

It wasn't all rainbows, however. Willow's partner, Kennedy, hadn't been so open-armed about the whole thing. Jade had been given an hotel room beside the two women, and had heard their debate—argument—about it more than once. It had never seemed to go anywhere, and although Willow seemed like the more pliable one, in this case she was just as stubborn as Kennedy, unwilling to budge on the subject of her late girlfriend's cousin's child. It was a mouthful, really, and even without putting her ear to the plaster that separated them, Jade had heard the words quite clearly.

"But you don't know for sure that Sophie's even related to her." Kennedy had brought up, more than once, to which Willow had responded, just as vehemently.

"I know, alright? I just know. There's Maclay blood in her, I've done the spell."

"Okay, then so what? You just want to take a four year old along on all our trips?"

"Well I can't just leave her there! She's family."

"No, she's Tara's family."

"That makes her mine."

It was somewhere in this fight that Kennedy would make her exit, fuming and muttering all the way down her hall, if she didn't make a comment about contending with Tara's ghost even after all this time. But she had always come back, at some time, and the two had reconciled, if not quietly, and finally, Kennedy had acceded. Jade doubted it would end there, that the buried feelings wouldn't come back, but she trusted Willow. Willow was enamored of the little girl, and Sophie had been just as captivated. Whether or not Slayer bases were the most appropriate place for a four year old to live, Jade knew the witch would keep the girl safe with all her might. And that was a far better fate than going back to the Orphanage. Ah, the Orphanage. That was going to be a mess putting that back in order. Jade had finally managed to call Lythia'l when she had a moment, and after getting chewed out by the demon for leaving her with the kids for so long without even letting her know what was going on, Jade had eventually calmed Lyth down enough to get Eddie to watch over them instead of Sheriff Hazim that Lyth had called in a fit of desperation and impatience. Not that Jade had much against the Sheriff, he and his deputy managed to balance their human-demon composition as about as well as the rest of the town, she still was hesitant about leaving him with children for long. He was a Prio Motu demon, strong and noble, but his focus was more on weeding out the immoral and wrong rather than protecting the weak. It was a part of Haven, just as much as the magic was, that kept the rather disreputable folks of Haven in charge. There were fights and disturbances, as was to be expected, in a territory with so many different beings, but Sheriff Hazim always managed a balance that kept the town from all-out war. But he wasn't the friendly type, and his intimidating stature and appearance served to scare the children, even though some of them were half-demon theirselves, even full. No, none of the children in Haven's Orphanage were simply normal, but even after all this time, Jade didn't find normal as desirable as perhaps she should. She wouldn't have been able to help save the children, the Slayers, if she had been. And Spike.

She hadn't seen much of the blonde vampire over the last two days. The truth be told, she was rarely alone, with Lisa and Rachel acting as her shadows until her patience wore out. She was more tolerant than she normally was, considering what they went through, but she didn't want to bond any more than she had. When she returned to Haven, she was dropping them at the Orphanage, and that was it. She didn't need to get close to anyone else, and God knew she didn't want them around her permanently. She was too cynic to be around children, she didn't know how to laugh and play with them. Even Spike was a sight better with the children, who all clung around him whenever he was around. And he even looked intimidating as hell, with his full black ensemble, but his natural charm seemed to emanate a lot stronger than hers. And Buffy had noticed. Jade had seen the blonde with him more and more. Jade hated to be jealous, and as curious as she was, but to her selfish relief, it didn't seem any more intimate than talks between old friends.

He still hadn't answered about returning to Haven, and Jade found herself hoping that he would. It seemed strange to be drawn to a person after little time together, especially since she didn't seek close relationships, not anymore, but that charm that captivated the children, it had a hold on her too. He was just… heroic. He loved the fight, she could see that in his expression, hear it in his triumphant calls. He had taken blows time and time again, for the sake of the fight, and to protect. She had found herself intrigued by him when she had first laid eyes on him, that pure, animalistic glee and fierce elation, a passionate fire, while she was just ashes. Still, she thought of him more than she'd like to admit, which made her guilty. And also a fool, for she saw the way he looked at Buffy. Though by their conversation they seemed exes, it was obvious his feelings for her had yet to vacate, and as for Buffy, she seemed to care just enough to keep him after her. It would make her jealous if she thought about it enough, and she had no reason to. She'd be gladdened if he came back to Haven, for her friends were few, but it'd be fine if he didn't. There was a reason she depended on others as little as possible, if she took care to remember it.

"Do we have to go?" Rachel whined, while Lisa stood quietly, silent and obedient. Jade glanced at the van that waited for them. A couple of the slayers were heading near Haven, and they were dropping Jade and the children off there first. Jade missed her motorcycle more than anything, but she wouldn't have been able to take the three children on it, and the opportunity to get a ride was a fortunate one, though it was likely she'd have to remind the drivers where they were heading at least once. Haven had a habit of slipping from the minds of people who didn't live there, or didn't think on it enough. Just one of the mystical quirks of the town, which Jade had welcomed wholeheartedly upon learning it.

Jade narrowed her eyes as she glanced up at the sun. The parking lot was wide open and defenseless to the rays of the bright sun, except for the few trees that littered there. Jade glanced around, seeing Willow, Kennedy and Sophie approaching. Buffy stood a hundred feet away, talking with one of the Slayers that would be accompanying them, and Jade didn't even see Spike. She tried not to be disappointed, but it invaded her anyway. She wasn't surprised that he wasn't coming along, but she would have at least liked to say goodbye. However, there was a more important goodbye happening. Sophie, as happy as she was to have found her new home with Willow, had glistening blue eyes as she stepped over to Rachel, Lisa and Gunner. At the orphanage, the children had made their own family, and the children embraced each other tearfully.

"We're grateful, you know." Willow spoke, looking fondly at the little Sophie before turning her hazel green eyes on Jade. Kennedy was more silent, but Jade chose to focus on the more amicable red-head anyway. She felt another stab of regret that she was indeed leaving. She didn't know about the rest of them, but she felt an affinity towards the witch. Willow was down-to-earth and kind, instead of being superior about her powers. And they were immense. Jade was impressed, and a little envious of the witch's capability. Sometimes Jade had felt, in her weakest moments that being a Slayer was a curse. It could still be one, but it wasn't hers to bear alone. "For all that you've done. You were a big help."

"I'm glad we could help each other." Jade said sincerely, with a light smile. "And I'm glad you could give Sophie a home. She's a good kid. She deserves it."

"Yeah, haven't quite worked out the details of all that yet. Whoops. But we'll make it work. The coven takes in witches, you know. Although not usually that young. Don't worry! I'm not going to drop Sophie off on them. Babysitting at the most." Willow nodded her head fervently, and Jade couldn't help but grin a little wider at Willow's animated expression. The red-head smiled herself, and then making a face at Kennedy, not so subtly indicated her head in Jade's direction, prompting her.

The native American looked uncomfortable, then with a sigh and a roll of her eyes spoke. "And sorry about the whole pinning you to the wall thing. You were just trying to help. And thanks for all you did in the fight. You saved our butts out there." Her words grew more sincere as she went along, giving her a grudging smile and offering her hand as she finished.

Jade nodded, accepting the handshake. "We worked well together."

"Yeah, it was alright." A voice pierced the sound, matter-of-fact and energetic, Buffy joining the conversation as her Slayers stepped into the van, starting it. "You were a lot of help. If you don't have to go back to—whatever it's called—"

"Haven." Willow helpfully supplied, to which Buffy shrugged.

"You could do some good here. Probably."

"I'm not the team type. I appreciate the offer." Jade replied, seeing a bit of relief flash in Buffy's eyes. Jade had a feeling that Kennedy wasn't the only one Willow was urging to extend an olive branch, but forced or not, Jade did appreciate the gesture. Still, she had ruffled enough feathers in her time here. She was ready to go home, rather than treading in very shallow waters with the blonde.

"Well, I offered." Buffy spoke, more to Willow, who made a sympathetic face at Jade at Buffy flounced away, back to business.

"Take care of yourself." Willow said to Jade, more seriously. "Come on, Sophie. We have to let them go, now." With a sob, the four year old tore herself away, burying her face in Willow's leg. Willow touched the girl's head with tender affection, brushing the soft strands of hair.

"You too. And if you ever are in trouble… Let me know." Jade said, meaning it. In a world crisis, she couldn't just say no, as much as she wanted to ignore the Slayer life for as much as possible, apocalypses were a bit of a buzz kill. She wanted to avoid the outside world, not see it burn. So as much as she didn't want to go to Slayer-school, she could still help. She had proved it, at least. Perhaps there was no 'being rusty' excuse for being a Slayer, no matter how much of a hiatus she had taken.

"We will." Willow said, with Kennedy's nod. "Well, we're heading back to Brazil, but if you need something too, just let us know." She produced a phone, which Jade hesitated for only a moment before accepting it. It couldn't hurt. She pocketed it before stepping away to join the children in the back of the van. She glanced once around, waiting to see the Vampire in all black, even if it was silly, to expect that in the sunlight. She prepared to close the van doors when she heard a "Ow, ow, ow." There, streaking across the parking lot was a wooly blanket that appeared to cover a man. Jade couldn't help but smile when she saw who it was. With a bit of smoke, he made it to the shadow of the van.

"Spike!" Rachel and Gunner cheered, while Lisa watched with a quieter affection.

"Ello Kiddies. Thought I'd give you off a grand farewell." Spike said languidly, half leaning in to the van to avoid the direct sunlight. "Almost lit up like fireworks though. Well, the cinders they leave behind."

"Fireworks are great," Gunner trilled.

"Not Spike-fireworks." The blonde vampire corrected him. "Or Spike cinders." His gaze left the children then, turning to Jade, who he acknowledge with an awkward nod, looking as he might want to say something else.

"Staying then?" Jade said, keeping her voice warm. "Good luck."

"Thought I'd give the good guy hero bit another go. See how long it sticks."

"Probably for as long as you want it to."

Spike acknowledged that with a light grin. "Well I'm not married to the place. Might go seeking trouble some time. Find myself back in Haven." He said that part slower, attempting to sound casual, and Jade's disappointment that he wasn't coming with her faded to an accepting smile.

"Definitely. If you have trouble, you know where to find me."

* * *

 **A/N:** _And that ends the introductory arc, like a two-parter, or possibly more episodes. The next arcs are smaller, like a single episode, and they tie into each other a little, until the next big plot arc. I hope it's still enjoyable, and thank you if you'd made it this far!_


	19. Chapter 18

**18**

 _Two Months Later_

"How about this one?" Lythia'l striking features disappeared, instead featuring a fluffy-haired blonde with captivating hazel eyes and a pert lip.

"Well… if you like that one." Jade shrugged indecisively, leaning back in their busted couch. Well, busted as in it no longer had a supportive frame, but the lovely sinking feeling of the cushions was quite a cozy feeling, and Jade didn't mind a single bit. Not that she had the cash to spring for a nice new couch, so she made do with what she had. It was a good thing she didn't have claustrophobia, as she repositioned her butt to keep it from falling into the abyss that was their living room furniture.

"Honestly, Jade. You're terrible! You said that about the last three faces." Lyth made an unsatisfied 'tsk', taking off the enchanted ring and letting her normal physiology revert. Well, her human appearance, that is. Jade knew Lyth in her original form didn't have quite so much skin covering her body, and her brown eyes were a replaced with a midnight, inhuman blue. However, she did the appearance of a human rather well, on all her own. She allowed the skin to grow over her face, a mask of sorts that hid the veiny membrane underneath, and her true eye color could be kept at bay if she focused on it enough. Lyth was quite fortunate as a Mok'tagar Demon to be able to pass as a human without any spells to change her appearance, but Lyth enjoyed and employed them anyway, flitting through magically imbued masks as one might change clothes.

"Lyth, you know how gorgeous the face you have already," Jade said genuinely. Lyth was authentically gorgeous as a human, her smooth olive skin and rounding cheekbones. If she paid that much attention to appearance, Jade would be infinitely more jealous. But her indifference about her image was particularly obvious around Lyth, in more just skin, but the clothes they wore. Jade was clad in rumpled jeans and a 'black mesa' t-shirt, whereas Lyth floundered in a flower dress. Though, Lyth was going to a party, and Jade's plans were less lively. She was going to search out dark alleys, to make sure vampires weren't preying on the few humans that resided in Haven. Damn, just three days with the Slayers, and Jade was already infected with the patrol bug. And whenever she thought about shirking it, duty and obligation crap began flaring up in her head. It was a scream, but at least she had more of a sense of purpose than she did before she had left Haven. And while she wasn't going to go full Rambo with her stakes, she'd keep more of an eye out.

"Well, that's true. But a gal gets bored of it after a while." Lyth sniffed. "And Madame Syeira's illusions are the best. They give a girl a little option. Here. Try this one. You can keep the blue eyes and brown hair, but it gives you a bit more cheekbone and fuller lips. And hides that terrible rosacea." She dropped a ring in Jade's open palm.

"Thanks," Jade managed to say with a sigh, immediately putting the ring back on the table with the rest of Lyth's 'options'. "But I'll manage with my terrible rosacea, thank you." Alright, she wasn't the prettiest of girls, and Lyth hardly had the tact to lie to her, but even if Lyth's tastes weren't in the more overdone princess type faces, wearing a ring to make her look pretty and completely like someone else wasn't in Jade's books. She'd manage. Although it was true that Madame Syeira was particularly skilled with illusion. They didn't just change the _look_ , but the feel. Make her taller, skinnier—a male even, if that's what the spell contained. Madame Syeira didn't skimp. She was the resident Magic Shop owner in Haven, a powerful witch that held her own, and wasn't to be trifled with. Not being one for magic, Jade hadn't met her face to face, but Lyth was one to gush. At least Jade knew where to go for magic if she needed some. Jade was meaning to talk to Madame Syeira sometime in the near future, see if she was interested in training some of the Orphans. Ever since she had gotten Lisa, Rachel and Gunner back from the Order that had almost killed them, they had been more fascinated by their magic heritage. At least Rachel and Lisa were, where as Gunner wanted to avoid it. She didn't blame him. They had not seen kind things. They had watched a fellow friend and Orphan be murdered in front of them. But the girls had asked Jade to see if they could get some training, and she had promised she would at least ask the Madame. Perhaps it would be a good thing, a couple of little exercises and tricks for the girls to learn. And anyone else in the Orphanage that wanted to. They didn't have to be born from magic to learn it, and the other Orphans were odd enough to perhaps want to learn enough on their own. Jade could only think of a couple of the children that could be 'normal', and even then she could be wrong. Maybe there was no normal in Haven. Maybe there was no normal anywhere.

"Suit yourself." Lyth sighed, going back to the Chinese visage, which she called her exotic weakness. Black hair pooled to her knees and she kept calling herself 'Mulan'. Jade's affinity for Disney had rubbed off had rubbed off on Lyth, if not in strange ways, and Jade had to make sure she was careful with which movies she watched, so Lyth wouldn't get the wrong idea about human society. As long as Lyth had spent in her world, her nomadic tendencies hadn't let her engage too much in the flurry of human life. Mostly out of necessity, Lyth was hiding from her own people. Thus, Haven. The place where demons and humans go to not be found. Like Jade.

Jade pushed herself up from the couch, freeing herself from its grasps. "I'm going out. Enjoy your party."

"If you get tired of dusting vampires, you can come. Oh, don't give me that face, Jade." Lyth said at the retreating brunette's back. "I know you only kill the bad ones. Which _I_ would say would be all of them, but you always give them that little chance before they kill whoever they're feeding off of. If the Vampires had a nobel peace prize they should give it to you. You're all soft-hearted and benefit of the doubt-giving."

"You're not going to use the soul-less argument are you, because you're in the same boat as the vampires, remember?"

"You're not wrong. Unfortunately." Lyth sighed. "But those mixed demon types don't have the same restraint." Her visage changed back to an African American woman with silver hair and mesmerizing purple eyes. "Although if the Mok'tagar do ever come to town, at least I'll have some soul-less buddies to hide with. So maybe do try to keep a couple alive."

"I'll do my best." Jade stepped out into the hall, lighting her cigarette as she carried herself into the open air. She took a long drag as she did, looking out at the sky. Dark and twinkling, the moon was no longer as fat as it had been a couple days ago, during its full moon. She was always aware of the three nights when the moon was as full as it could be, mostly from the subtle shift changes at work, Eddie's surreptitious absences. It could be argued that he was the boss and could do what he liked, but Jade wasn't stupid enough to miss the pattern. Still, she wasn't one to pry. She didn't go blabbing about her Slayer status, and Eddie had never probed, so she extended the same courtesy. If he wanted to tell her, he could, but he hadn't, so she let it be. And plus, she owed him. She had been gone for three days with the Slayers without so much as a phone call, and she'd been lucky as hell he didn't fire her for it. He had given her a talk about it, but he was fair. He was more upset that she could have been in trouble than the fact she hadn't shown up for work. At least Lyth had explained things to him, and he had been good enough to watch over the Orphans for a week until they had found a more permanent Keeper, a loose skinned Demon named Nigellus that was friendly enough, though the children took a bit to get used to his appearance, and though others of his kind liked walking around naked to evoke emotions from people, that had been shut down immediately. He was eccentric, but endearing enough. He was strange, but so was everyone else, and he was good to Lisa, Rachel and Gunner, helping them get over their trauma.

Hell, even Jade had gotten nightmares from what had happened. She still dreamt of Neva, and of Fyora's blood all over her, the look the small curly haired woman had given her before she had convulsed and laid still. And of course, Jade had had other dreams, not nightmares. Of Spike. It bothered her, to the extreme she almost preferred the nightmares. It had been two months, and she still couldn't shake the attraction. It had only been a couple days, but she had been intrigued by him, the vampire with a soul. Feelings of guilt rose prominently, as well as curiosity. Maybe things could have been different if he had returned to Haven. But he hadn't, he had stayed with Buffy, something that Jade reminded herself of. Besides, there was no mutual anything there. They had clicked, like friends or drinking buddies or fighting pals, but not anything else. So she needed to forget, and get back to her life in Haven, where she made as little waves as possible and kept to herself.

She walked past her bike, which was thankfully parked back in its normal spot. She had gotten it back without a hitch, thankful and lucky it had been where she had left it. She thought of riding it tonight, but she wasn't going far, downtown was a couple minutes away, and it was a stealth walk, not a blaring one. She straightened her bow on her back, with more arrows in her backpack, trusty machete at her hip. Oh, she looked like she was ready for some slaying, alright, but really, it was just silly to walk at night in Haven without at least being prepared.

As it was, there wasn't much on the streets. It was dark and getting darker, and though there were many things that scurried in the night, Jade went unnoticed, stepping through the alleys and sticking through the shadows. She walked past the one real club in Haven, The Fragment, which she avoided with a passion, and Lyth had tried to drag her to more than once. She didn't mind the demon bar a couple streets down from time to time, but music and dancing didn't appeal to her. In those environments, humans stood out anyway, and she didn't want to be noticed. She took another step around the corner, when she heard a shuffle and a rustle. She peered around to see two figures, dark and huddled together, as if in an intimate embrace. Jade knew better, she could just make out the light sucking and diminishing groans. No, it was no intimate liason. It was a Vampire, and he was feeding. He had long blonde hair, reaching to his shoulders. The victim seemed human, and she didn't fight, paler, her eyes flickered closed. Jade pulled her bow from her shoulder, nocking an arrow to it and pulling the string in place. She did so very quietly; the vampire could hear her if he focused. However, he continued to draw the woman's blood into his mouth, and Jade held her bow steady, waiting.

Waiting to see if he would stop.

There was a certain point where a vampire could feed from the human and leave them alive, and he hadn't crossed it yet. He was very, very close, and Jade waited. She would have to kill him if he meant to kill that woman, but not before.

It was near enough now. She took a breath and prepared to loose the arrow.

He stopped. Jade tensed, thinking he might have heard her, that he was trying to throw her off or kill her and return to his meal, but she saw with relief that he was shifting her down to a sitting position, pressing some gauze to her neck wound. Jade let out the breath she had been holding. The Vampire was playing by the rules. She recognized him now, and she was more gladdened that she didn't have to kill him. He wasn't exactly alone in Haven, and that would start an investigation and feud she was eager to avoid. She lowered her bow, replacing it onto her back. She waited in the shadows a moment later, to make sure that the Vampire wasn't going to finish the job. He had turned back to the woman, smacking his lips and saying, "Thanks for the snack." There was only a light murmur that Jade couldn't discern words from, but whatever it was made the Vampire laugh. He was focused on the woman, and Jade was focused on him, so much that she didn't see the flicker of shadow until it was too late.

Out from the darkness came another figure, and as he turned in alarm, the wooden stake the figure carried found its mark, and the vampire erupted in dust. Jade gaped, wondering if it was another demon-vampire feud, when she saw the figure more clearly. A young girl, no more than seventeen, with tumbling dark hair and just as dark eyes. She looked in Jade's direction briefly, more as a general glance than a specific one, and then knelt next to the woman. "You're safe now," The girl soothed in an energetic, assuming tone, kind.

Jade shook her head. What was this girl doing? Was she crazy? Jade pushed herself off the wall, deciding she'd have to ask the girl herself, and stepped around the corner. The young girl was still turned away from her, speaking words of encouragement to the half-conscious woman. Jade took another step, and then the girl spoke in a loud, bubbly tone.

"Oh hello there!" She turned to face Jade. She was decidedly young looking, pretty with a dazzling smile that she displayed now. "You know, I was wondering why you hadn't come out earlier, and then it came to me!" She glanced the palm of her hand off her forehead in a 'duh' gesture. "You wanted to see me in action, of course. So I simply couldn't keep you waiting, and thought I'd show off my stuff." She jumped to her feet, which were clad in furry ugg boots. "I'm Bailey."

"Wha—" Words were slow to come, in the face of this buoyantly loquacious teen. Jade had in fact not even noticed the girl at all before she struck, and the fact that this Bailey had noticed Jade was incompetence on Jade's part. And this chatty Kathy had no care at all whose ashes she had just stirred up with her fancy boots, but Jade knew the trouble that was about to come around the corner—perhaps not quite literally, but soon enough. "And who—what are you, exactly?" Jade said, for lack of a better term, but Bailey didn't seem fazed in the slightest.

"Oh, me. I'm a Slayer, of course. And I'm here to help you win back the town, with gumption. We can be partners. Won't that be fun?" Bailey grinned wider.


	20. Chapter 19

**19**

"Um." Jade was at an uncharacteristic loss of words. "Well—It's not… Look. I don't think you understand what this place is. It's not overrun."

"Sure it is." The teenager shrugged, yet to wipe off her amenable smile. "There's demons, like, everywhere. And I know you think it's probably too much to handle, but it's not! And besides, you're here to help me anyway."

"No, I just. Look, this isn't really the best place for you. There's a Slayer named Buffy, she lives in San Fran—"

"Oh, I know all about that," Bailey waved a hand dismissively. "Where do you think I came from, silly? But you see, it's not all butterflies and rainbows if we're all grouped up together all the time. There is a _lot_ of ground to cover, and some towns have been a little neglected. Like Haven. That's why I'm here."

"To keep the town from being neglected?" Jade tried to keep any derision from her tone. The girl was beyond naïve. Although it was true, there had been far younger Slayers, her age was just perspective. She was incredibly strong, more so than any 'normal' teenager, so it was hard to judge them by the same rules. Still, Haven wasn't like the other towns. It wasn't a good vs evil dilemma. It was a whole swath of gray. "So you were sent here all by your self?"

"Uh-huh. That's right." The girl bobbed back down, kneeling towards the woman, vibrant concern in her brown eyes as she looked over the woman, making sure she was still breathing.

"What about a watcher. Or other Slayers?" Jade had a hard time forcing the word Slayer off of her lips, lest it sink in her throat like molasses. The word was expletive to her, not a polite term to be used for someone that was trusted.

"Well, I mean, they do their best, but with all these Slayers, they get spread a little thin, you know? But I'm not quite alone. Buffy said there'd be plenty here for me to get experience with how to hunt, and since you live here—"

"Buffy. Did Buffy send you here, then?" Jade found it hard keeping her tone steady. She knew that the blonde and her hadn't exactly gotten off on the wrong foot, but she didn't need a little spy in her midst—or worse, someone else to babysit. And she sure as hell wasn't going to act as someone's Watcher. She was on her own, that was it. Not this bubbly, carefree Slayer who didn't know a thing, who treated it like a game.

"No, not really. Just sort of this area, and she said if I needed help, I could seek out you. And if _you_ need assistance, to offer it."

"I don't need it. You need to go. Now."

For the first time, the smile faded off of her face, her eyebrows knotting into a frown. With her larger lips and youthful face it looked more like a pout, not something that Jade could take seriously. "I'm not going to go. You're outnumbered here. You need me."

"I don't—" Jade shook her head with exasperation. "I don't need your help. You have no idea what you've done. That wasn't just any old vampire you dusted."

The girl shrugged. "Looked like it to me."

"That's one of the Antov family. Two brothers and a sister, all vampires, almost three hundred years old, do you understand? Ah, this isn't the place." Bailey eyed Jade suspiciously as the older Slayer stepped towards her, but Jade's attention was focused on the unconscious woman. She opened her purse, scanning the woman's driver's license for her address, before tossing the purse at Bailey. "Come on. We'll talk elsewhere." Jade lifted the woman easily into her arms.

"Where are we going?" Bailey asked after they had crossed a couple of streets, her hands in the pockets of her sweater vest, the woman's purse tossed casually over her shoulder.

"We're taking her to her home. It's not far." Jade glanced down at the woman, who she now knew was named Georgianna Harper. She was still pale, but breathing more easy, her light brown curls falling on Jade's jean jacket. She was thin, but a bit taller than Jade, and she was becoming less light as their path continued on. They crossed the right street, and seeing the house number, she took a b-line across the lawn to make her way to the front door. "Keys."

"What? Oh, yeah." Bailey fished through the purse. "You know it's rude to look through a woman's purse, right. Although it's a very handy place to keep stakes. Ah, here." With a clink, she fished the metal object out, fitting it into the door. Thankfully, the small house looked dark, either deserted of its guests or Georgianna lived alone. Jade hoped for the latter, it was easier to explain when they didn't have to explain. She carried the woman inside, nearly tripping over boxes. The woman was quite a packrat, and she obviously hadn't been expecting company. Jade took her to one of the bedrooms, checking her neck wound to make sure there wasn't any fresh blood on her neck. Bailey had followed her in there, looking around at the room.

"Ugh, Guns and roses."

"Help me with her boots." Jade commanded, to put a halt to Bailey's not-so-desired opinions. The teenager shrugged, pulling one off while Jade got the other.

"So what's your big deal with this Antov family?" Bailey asked as they stepped out of the bedroom, "So what if there's another brother and sister left. Just dust them too. You're not afraid of vampires, are you?" She looked at Jade suspiciously. "Buffy said you were strange for a rogue slayer."

"I'm not—" This girl really tried her patience.

"But you were letting that guy feed off of the woman. She could have been killed."

"He stopped. That's the rule here, in Haven. No strings of murders. No unchecked feeding. He followed the rules; he fed off of her but didn't kill her."

Bailey gave her an incredulous look, making a pshtt sound with her mouth. "Murdering is what vampires _do_. They don't have souls, and they don't follow rules."

"They do in this town. And we have our own rules too. Which is not going around slaying vampires."

Bailey scoffed. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. And what about all the demons in this town. They get this get out slayage free card too?"

"It's complicated. Look, Haven is different. There's no bad versus good. There's a lot of different factors. A lot of different demon families and groups. There's a very tentative line of balance. You can't just come in and kill all the vampires, you'll tip the scales. Same with the demons. Our Sheriff keeps things in line. You cross him, you get put down hard. And he asks for order in his town. Demons and vampires don't come here to kill, they come here because they're hiding from something. And they get by."

"So violence never happens in this town?" Bailey raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"It happens. It's not like there are trustfall meetings once a week. Fights break out. But to the minimal. And a Slayer, going on a rampage? That's bad. It'll rile everything else, the same way if the vampires decided to go back to their murdering persona."

"Which they would, if they could. Which they probably do, anyway. It seems to me like you're just lazy. Vampires are bad. End of story."

"I'm not saying that they're going to start hosting charities. But there was a truce of sorts. And when Marko's siblings find out that he's dead, they're going to start looking for who's responsible, and it's not going to be pretty. So you should get out of here. Let me handle it." It was her hope that Tony and Rosa Antov would go looking after the more nefarious demons, and a tussle there wouldn't be all that bad, as long as it didn't spill onto the innocent—which included demons just as much as it did humans. After a week, maybe a couple, it would hopefully settle down again—if there were no more incidents. And especially if they didn't catch wind that it was a Slayer that did it. Sheriff Hazim knew what she was—there wasn't much point in hiding anything from the Prio Motu demon, patience was not one of his strong suits, nor was dealing with dishonesty, but since she had never made any trouble, he had never bothered her. And if Bailey left, now, he wouldn't have to know her involvement, and everything would be fine.

"I'm not leaving, are you crazy? I know you think I can't do it or whatever, but seriously. I don't need a team to be great. And if you're like super scared of all these vampires, then I'll take care of them for you. It's no big deal."

"Bailey—" Jade spoke, alarmed, as the girl stepped towards the door.

"Look, we don't have to pair up, but you need to stay out of my way, okay? I got this." Bailey warned. As she turned to leave, Jade took a step forward, nearer to her. Not so much to force her, but to put some more sense into that head of hers. So quickly the bubbly personality had changed, to a bratty, haughty persona, but she was young and she was naïve and she was going to get herself killed in this town. But before she could even speak a word, Bailey reacted, lashing out with her foot and kicking Jade square in the stomach. Jade flew backwards, tripping over an unpacked box and slamming her head against the wall so hard her eyesight darkened for a moment. The next thing she saw was Bailey waggling a finger as she stepped out into the doorway. "Don't get nasty with me, that's just rude. I mean, you're not even going to attack the bad guys, so don't get all bossy and faux aggress-o, okay? I'm doing this for you, and everyone else in this town." Her voice trailed off as she stepped into the night air.

Jade leaned her head against the wall, immediately regretting it when it rubbed against the bump growing on the back of her skull. Slayers hit hard. One of these days she'd remember that. Even young girls like Bailey. Who was about to go on a rampage and get herself killed. And probably Jade too, if she stepped in, which she was going to. She couldn't let Haven be thrown to the dogs. This was her home and she didn't have the option of leaving. But damn, it was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Son of a bitch." She muttered.

* * *

"I don't think you understand how close I came to having my hair burned off. Burned. Off. I mean, I know I grow hair back pretty quickly, but still. And my skin. What the hell, Jade?"

"I know, I know." Jade sighed. Lyth had been raving at her for the last ten minutes, after she had come back from another party that had supposedly not gone all that well.

"Burned the whole place down. What kind of crazy bitch does that?"

"Well, it's a pretty effective way to kill both demons and vampires…" Jade started, trailing off under Lyth's imperious glare.

"She's lucky I can just teleport out. Didn't so much as get cinders on my dress. But I could have. Could have. This little Slayer rampage has gone on long enough, don't you think?"

She was right on that regard. A string of incidents over the last couple of days. A vampire nest demolished, as well as a much appreciated vampire brothel downtown. Lyth's poker game had been short on two of her normal players the day before, one being killed and the other barely having made it out. With just enough of a description of a 'young, super strong girl' description to really get the ball rolling. It had been a complete mess. Bailey was a lot of things, especially being one to keep her word. And she had done it well. She had definitely managed to kill the vampires and demons she found so bad. Although she had let a lot go—not intentionally, but betraying that she was still an amateur. And the Antov siblings were still undead and kicking. They'd zero in on her soon enough. If Lyth didn't do so first. The demon was fuming. Though most of her party-mates had gotten out alive, it had certainly put a damper on the evening and to Lyth, that was nigh unforgiveable.

"I'll find her, and stop her." And ship her out of town as fast as possible. Sheriff Hazim was not pleased at all at the havoc in his town. And he didn't care about age, anyone who didn't follow the rules of Haven were dealt with. He was just as ruthless as the rest of his race, even though he didn't slaughter needlessly, instead keeping his town in check with an iron fist, it didn't mean he was in any way weak or unwilling to do the gritty tasks. In fact, Jade was pretty sure he enjoyed them. Some part of his nature he couldn't quite negate.

"I hope you mean kill her." Lyth sniffed. "She's done enough as it is."

"Jesus. Is killing people the solution to everyone's plans these days?" Jade spoke. One of the cats jumped on her lap, and she petted her absentmindedly, ruffling her fur the wrong way. "I'm not going to kill her."

"You're what? Why the hell not. That girl's a menace. Just off her. Come on, the town will probably throw you a party in honor. And this one won't be interrupted by burning flames of death."

"She's just doing what she thinks is right. I know—" Jade could feel Lyth's eye roll coming on. "I'm going to stop this. Believe me. But, after work." She scratched Pebble behind the ears, giving her a light kiss, apologizing for the disgruntled mew from the cat after Jade pulled herself off the couch.

"I swear, you would be so much more fun without a soul," Lyth called after her retreating back. "You know, if you ever want to donate, I'm more than willing to accept."

* * *

"Jade, there's a call for you."

Jade paused from unloading the bottles. These ones were blood, from animal to human. With the 'You Shall Not Murder' rule over feeding, some of the vampires just found it easier to buy from the 'We cater to your needs' alcohol store. From pure blood, to pure blood mixed with alcohol, it was a fairly popular shelf. Three shelfs, actually, the blood section spanned nearly a whole wall. Not needing to start another crisis, she was careful not to spill another drop, glancing back at her boss Eddie. He was one of the few that hadn't been hounding her about Bailey. In fact, hadn't even mentioned it, though Jade knew he probably guessed there was a connection. But he hadn't scolded her out of killing their paying customers, so at least she figured he didn't think she had been the one to do it. "A call for me? The Orphanage?" She asked with greater alarm, wondering who could possibly be calling her at work, but he was already shaking his head calmly.

"No, they're fine." Which he would know just as much as she did. She was grateful that he had been willing to stay with the Orphans for a few days after the whole kidnapping incident, but she knew for some reason that he was uncomfortable being there. She didn't know why, exactly, but it was a mystery for another time.

"Who, then?" She asked as he passed her the cordless phone.

"Sheriff Hazim." He said, with a bit of sympathy. Oh Lord, this was exactly what she wanted to avoid. If only it were as simple as the Sheriff being a hard-ass. Full human communities had it so good. She put the phone to her ear.

"It's Jade."

"Miss Jade." The garbled and brutish tone was somewhat hard to understand—but that was just as much in person than it was over the phone, but at least it was in English. "There's a few matters I would like to speak to you about."

Jade ground her teeth. Eddie was still standing there, with that same considerate glance, and she supposed it was better than the alternative, which she had a feeling she was about to see for herself. "How can I help you?"

"Come to the Station. Ten minutes." Before Jade could so much as utter a word, there was a dial tone. Good lord, now she had to see him in person. This day was going great. And her shift wasn't even over. She glanced at Eddie, who was shrugging.

"Guess you better go." So he had heard, she wasn't all that surprised. At least it was easier to explain. Not having to at all. "Good luck. And let me know if you're going to get eaten, I'll start hiring."

"His people don't eat humans. I think. They just bash them to pieces." It didn't sound as comforting as she would like. "Thanks for understanding, Eddie."

"You're welcome. But seriously. Do let me know if something happens. No radio silence, like last time." He said it kindly enough, his pale green eyes gentle, but his tone was serious. Jade nodded. Eddie was a fair boss, and a good person, it wasn't fair to leave him to worry, and she knew he would.

* * *

"Oh, Jade. How lovely it is to see you." Greeted the Deputy, and, the absolutely more opposite side to Sheriff Hazim that could have been found. He was young, with a square-ish face that was handsome in its own way, when his hair was slicked back as it was today, with two earnest shining brown eyes. He seemed way too innocent and good-hearted to be able to manage a town that could be dark as Haven, but somehow, he managed. He was supposedly full human, though Jade figured him far too cheery for that to be true. He seemed as harmless as a puppy dog. "So glad you could come." He ushered her into the station, which wasn't very big. There wasn't really much of a force at all, just a handful. But they were intimidating and efficient, and with Sheriff Hazim leading the way, damn scary. Except for fuzzy little Deputy Hart—so aptly named she applauded it, who led her down the hall. He chattered something to her, but it was white noise. She was far too nervous about seeing Hazim, especially since it wouldn't be to congratulate her on her achievements.

"Just knock. Good luck!" With a bright smile, Hart left her, decidedly a little too quickly. So he was feeling the effects of Hazim's ire as well. No doubt the demon was not happy at all with the chaos in his town. He liked well-oiled machines. Not peace exactly, but the semblance of it, and in the span of a few days, a young rogue Slayer—finally she could use that word and be right about it, had turned that all topsy-turvy.

She had scarcely knocked when she heard the growling that sounded similar to "Come in." Entering the room, she squinted in the near-darkness. There were no lights, but the dim lighting from a few torches. No standard desk or filing cabinets that she could see, but she was mainly focused on the huge Prio Motu standing a few feet away from her. Jesus, he was tall. She had forgotten. Tall, with gray mottled skin and a long gray main that was tied into two braids. He made a low growling sound in his throat, which startled her until she remembered that that was what his breathing sounded like. She looked across at what made Haven more stable than it had been for a long time, trying her very best to not look as anxious as she felt. Not that that mattered. She was sure he could tell. Master of the interrogation this one. And she was very lucky not to be thrown into their interrogation room and speaking to him there. Although she wasn't sure if they actually had one or had just buffed out their dungeons instead. She didn't want to find out. She stayed silent, mostly because nothing but a scared 'hi' came to her mind and she decided it was better to say nothing at all.

"I have little patience, so I'll get to the point." Hazim spoke gruffly. "There have been reports of a Slayer killing both demons and vampires over the last couple of days. Is this you?"

She held her breath. "No."

His eyes narrowed in the darkness, surveying her. She held his gaze, forbidding herself to show her fear. She wasn't a child to be frightened. She was a Slayer, even if that meant that she was in more danger because of it.

"But you know who it is." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and he dared her to contradict him. Slowly, she nodded.

"You know what I do with troublemakers in my territory."

"I do."

"The Vampires are in a fury. They are calling for the death of the Slayer responsible. Some of the other factions are getting a little over-zealous in this change of power. Do you see how that would be disturbing to me?"

"Yes." She sucked in a breath.

"So I have no choice but hunt down this Slayer and end it."

"No." His nostrils flared, teeth bared in displeasure at her interruption. "Please." She added with the proper courtesy. "She's just a kid. A warped sense of duty."

"You want it to escape unscathed, then?"

Jade nodded.

"Then why, has it ran untethered for the last couple of days? It is of your kind and you have let this havoc run loose." He took a step towards her, spit flying from his teeth, just as intimidating and as long as a vampire's fangs. The growling in his throat increased.

"She doesn't obey me. She doesn't understand the rules."

"That is not my concern. My Town is my concern and it is being ravaged by this wild heathen. And all I hear from you is excuses. Bah." He swiped his hand through the air. It didn't hit her, wasn't meaning to, but the air from it whistled through her hair.

"Let me find her. I'll take her out of here. She'll never come back." Jade inwardly cursed herself for not being able to do so earlier. Maybe she just hadn't tried hard enough. She hadn't gone with Lyth to that party, because she hated crowded places. Or to the bars, or even tried to warn the vampires. It concerned her, but she had stayed out of the way. She had survived that way for a long time now. Keeping out of it. So she had done it here, and it had been the wrong choice. Laziness, maybe. Maybe she was scared that if she went after Bailey she wouldn't be able to handle her own. Maybe deep down, she was the Slayer she was supposed to be and thought the Vampires deserved it. She just didn't know, but damn did she wish she did.

Hazim looked at her for a long moment, the silent cursed only by his growling breathing. "Twelve hours to remove her from this city. If I see this Slayer, hear of another death caused by it, another building burned, then I will find it myself." He leaned closer. "Or offer up another Slayer to appease the Vampires. Do you understand?"

Jade would not feel fear. She could always run, she knew that. And as cruel as he sounded, she knew that once she left Haven he would not follow. But she couldn't leave. The protective veil would not follow her if she left the town's boundaries for too long. She lived in Haven for a reason. She didn't have anywhere else to go. So she couldn't shirk this duty, whether she believed she deserved to carry it or not.

"Yeah." She said. "I understand."


	21. Chapter 20

**20**

She was getting nowhere. It had been a couple hours since she had left the Police station with her nerves just barely intact. Since then, she had driven around town, to the three motels within and the one just outside the limits, looking for anyone who was a new visitor, because the first question on Jade's mind was where Bailey had been staying the last couple of days. From what she had seen of the teenager is that she was well-groomed, her hair had been freshly curled and her nails cut and painted with a French manicure, clothes not even so much as rumpled, so unless she was willing to hide out in a dumpster in an alleyway, she must have found somewhere to hole up. Somewhere where she hadn't been found yet, because the chatter on the lone Slayer hadn't eased. That was a relief, for the most part. It meant Jade still had time to find her herself. Before she had to get the hell out of town and leave Bailey to her own devices. Which wouldn't go well. Sheriff Hazim was already showing uncharacteristic mercy, with not only giving Jade time to find Bailey, but the fact that the girl didn't already have a death or prison sentence when she was found.

For a few more hours, anyway. It was nearly sunset, and that was when Bailey's activities outside of attacking the sleeping vampires' nests had increased, at least over the last couple of days. It made sense. Vampires were most active at night, and Demons would be out and about too, at clubs and gatherings, instead of spread out. Ironically enough, as Jade searched the town, she didn't see as much of the human population walking aimlessly around. It was due to the yanking of chains of the supernatural. If the vampires and demons could just be slaughtered, their restraint towards the humans was decidedly less necessary. If they were going to die anyway, why behave? Which was simply another reason to stop this before it was worse. Haven's mystical essence protected the town more from the outside world than it did within. The only protective force there was Hazim. And the walls the Prio Motu demon had built were going to shatter.

So where the hell was Bailey?

Jade pulled her bike over to the side of the road, shutting off the engine so she could have some silence and just _think_. She was on her way back into the town, after leaving the motel, another dead end. But she was running out of ideas, and she didn't have that many to begin with. Bailey would go out soon, and while it was true that Jade could probably find her at the place most concentrated with the supernatural, but the truth was that Jade wanted to find her before that. If she did lay in wait for Bailey to make her move, Jade could end up getting the both of them discovered, which would just prove that they were in league to the very pissed off demon locals. Or it would just sabotage Bailey's attempt and again, the pissed off locals would simply kill her. No, she had to talk her down first. But where?

She had to have been taken in by someone. Someone sympathetic to the killing of demons of vampires…

"Oh, son of a bitch." Jade muttered as the realisation hit her. She started her motorcycle, this time with a solid location in mind. Jade had led her right there, after all. Georgianna Harper's house. It made the most sense. After Jade had left it, Bailey must have doubled back. After all, that woman had a sizeable chunk taken out of her. Just because the vampire had only decided to catch her and throw her back with half her blood gone didn't mean that she was all that happen about it. Maybe Bailey had spun some story about saving her, or just the sympathy card. After all, she was a young girl who was pretty, flashing that charming good-girl smile. It was a possibility, at least. Better than empty motel rooms.

"Hello?" Jade knocked on the door for the second time, her thumb pressing into the doorbell button with such force that she cracked the button. She muttered a curse under her breath. "Ms. Harper?" There was a car in the driveway, but it had been the night Jade had brought Georgianna home, so perhaps she just liked walking, and wasn't home. Or she was, and was in hiding. Jade slammed her hand down, harder this time. There was a slight splintering. "We met a couple days ago." She called through the wood. "Where you were unconscious." She muttered under her breath. There was still silence. She sighed, her excitement from her realisation fading into doubt. It had been a hell of a guess. She glanced at her watch. It was after five o'clock, the end time for most jobs, but she wasn't home. But she could have any number of different schedules. Perhaps Georgianna wasn't home. But Jade didn't have the option of coming back later.

"Damnit." She sighed, exasperated. "Well, it's a nice house. She can afford a new door." She nodded her head without quite convincing herself, before raising her boot and bringing it solidly through the door. The wood splintered, breaking under her whim and clattering into the house. Jade pushed what was left of the door out of her way, stepping into the house. For a moment, she thought that maybe the house _was_ actually abandoned, and she had a hell of a lot explaining to do if she tried to find Georgianna on the streets when she heard a quiet grating sound, like something being moved. Stepping over the boxes that were no more organized than they were two days ago, she moved into the living room. She didn't have super hearing—and just the thought of it made her think of Spike, but it was dead quiet in the house, and the feeling that she wasn't alone didn't leave her.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone—" She had taken another step towards the couch when there was a flurry of movement, a figure standing up and whirling towards her. It was Georgianna, not Bailey, which was probably why Jade hadn't gotten another boot to her stomach. However, her gaze was drawn to the small canister in Georgianna's hand, a black spray-can that she assumed was mace.

"Woah, woah. You don't need that." Jade raised her hands protectively, in front of her face as Georgianna held the can out in front of her, though Jade could see that her grip wavered. But still, the can was pointed mostly in her direction, and she didn't want that in her eyes. She also didn't want to hurt the woman, at all.

"You broke my door," Georgianna accused, eyes glancing to the hallway and back to Jade. Her expression was one of irritation, but it was a show to hide the fear that was there as well. "She said not to let anyone in—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Jade's foot was flying through the air, knocking it out of the woman's hand. In her mind, the sequence where it could have flown into her hand after would have been cool as hell, but instead it just missed Jade's fingertips and bounced onto the carpet. Jade caught the words hairspray as it rolled, which wasn't quite as painful, but still not something she wanted in her eyes. Though she hadn't quite bowed to the action first, do later routine, she found it quicker, and to be honest, refreshing. Georgianna gaped, taken aback by Jade's speed. Well, Georgianna did live in a town of weird happenings due to their supernatural crowd, but perhaps not so much from a human-looking face. And that's what Jade was. Human, with a side of Slayer juice.

"Which is fantastic advice. Except you didn't let me in. I came in. Which means I'm not a vampire." Jade explained, and the other woman nodded. "I'm looking for Bailey. Is she here?"

"No," Georgianna replied, before making a slight face. If she had wanted to go the clueless route, she messed that up a little bit. "No, she's not here."

"Where is she? And no, I'm not going to hurt her. Has she been with you the last couple of days?"

Georgianna looked hesitant, glancing down at her shoes, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of selling out the teenager.

"Georgianna—" Jade started with a long breath.

"Gia." The woman interrupted softly, more out of habit than anything else.

"Gia. I don't have a lot of time, and I really need to find her before she gets hurt."

"By you? She helped me. She saved me from a Vampire a couple days ago. I was walking home from a drink with my coworker and something hit me in the alley…" Her fingers crept up to her pale neck, which had no bandages, but the faint twin marks that were unmistakably fang wounds. "She saved me there. Helped me when I was awake. Our Sheriff is always talking about how the vampires won't kill us, that they'll just drink bottled blood, but it's not true. And she's been doing good. She's a sweet girl."

"She reminds you of someone, doesn't she?" Jade asked, quietly, refraining from the urge to state, yet again, that Marko _had_ actually stopped, and despite being a vile, bloodthirsty vampire, who was yes, soulless, he had followed the rules and had died for it. That wasn't right, even if feeding off of harmless victims wasn't right either.

"Yes. My niece. She's doing a good thing."

"She's doing a dangerous thing." Jade corrected. "If I don't find her, the Sheriff will. Or the Vampires. Now I can help her, or you can read about it in the newspaper next to 'Slayer Menace taken care of; town rejoices'. Please." Jade added, at Gia's further hesitation. "I'm not going to hurt her."

Much. Dark was quickly approaching, the sun setting over the lake. It was near lakeside that Gia had sent her, which Jade was really hoping was not to be a wild goose chase, by either being a lie from Gia or one from Bailey. But Jade did know for a fact that there was one vampire's nest near there, which she tracked down. It was likely enough that Bailey would go there, though whether the vampires left the place or reinforced it were a possibility either way. These buildings were mostly deserted, even more dilapidated than the rest of the town, some of the original buildings from when Haven was constructed. She sat on top of one of the roofs, a few buildings away from the nest's, the highest vantage point she could have gotten. Still, she didn't see anything. And hell, if this was where Bailey was going, she would have gotten here a hell of a lot faster than Jade—unless she had been walking. Gia had admitted that Bailey had left only a couple minutes before Jade had arrived. So there was a chance that she'd catch Bailey before she entered the building. Or after she left it. If she did.

She heard her before she saw her, the scuffling Bailey wasn't trying to hide as she pulled herself up the building the same way that Jade did, making the roof with a final leap, steading herself before the incline of the roof. Bailey wore a black jacket this time, that was a little big for her, her buoyant, curly hair pulled into a bun, her all-business attire, with the ugg boots she still hadn't ditched. She gave Jade a wide smile as she brushed off the dirt on her legs. "Found me, did you? I guess it took you long enough. Did you decide you wanted to join the fun?"

"Yeah, something like that." Relief beat hard in Jade's chest. Bailey wasn't running, just looking at her calmly enough, self-assured and unruffled. Jade had a chance to talk her down. "Bailey, you need to stop. There is serious trouble brewing." It looked like Bailey had found some trouble herself. One of her lips were split, and a bruise colored her caramel skinned cheek even further. At least that's what Jade could see, but as it was, Bailey was lucky that she hadn't been hurt worse.

"Oh, not that again." Bailey rolled her eyes. "Are we going to have our epic showdown now, because I kicked your ass last time."

"You caught me off-guard," Jade corrected, not without a little hurt pride. "I didn't expect you to go all Rambo on me while I was trying to speak with you."

"Slayer mistake number one. Expect everything. You gotta have your guard up, you know. You know, from what Buffy said, I thought you were a tough rogue Slayer and all, could teach me stuff that the S-O didn't. But you're soft, you know?"

"For the last time—" Jade's voice grew louder with exasperation, before she lowered it. They weren't that far from the vampire nest, and the sun was nearly set. Their hearing was a lot better than hers, so shouting probably wasn't in her best interest. But for Christ sakes, the Slayer Organization or "S-O", whatever Bailey's chatspeak deemed it, needed another word for Slayers that didn't belong in their club other than rogue. Buffy must have been calling her that behind her back. In fact, she was probably laughing at her ingenious of the whole thing, sending Bailey over here to harass her, this perky, over-indulgent teenager that didn't get a glimpse of anything serious at all.

"I'm not a rogue slayer." Jade said, more calmly than she felt. But the last words Bailey spoke were getting her too. Soft. For all the training Jade had received, how hard it had been, she had left that behind for almost a full year. Except for her segue with Spike, she didn't fight. She just didn't. Didn't practice, didn't do any of it. She was naturally skinny, so it wasn't as if she was out of shape, but she didn't have the muscle she used to, hadn't tried as hard. And what if she just couldn't fight this girl and win on equal footing? She had fought against Buffy, hadn't she, with blood running from her torso. She'd done it then. But then damn Spike and his intrusively accurate conclusion that she didn't fight as hard when it was for herself wasn't wrong. Fighting was in her blood, she was a Slayer. But maybe she was avoiding it because her pride weighed more.

"Okay, whatever. Now are we going to do this, or can I do our job now, please?"

"Bailey, you need to—oh, screw it." Jade launched herself towards the teen, spinning a kick at her that Bailey narrowly avoided with a flip backwards of her own. She smiled up at Jade, an arrogant little grin.

"So you can fight," Bailey crowed. "I was getting worried." Bailey replied with a flying kick of her own, an impressive little mid-air somersault that was all style, but accurate enough that Jade had to dodge to the side, before meeting Bailey's fists with her own. Bailey's strikes were a bit more flourish and finesse, where Jade hit heavier, and they struck at each other for a few moments without really getting anywhere, landing a few punches and blocking the rest.

Jade landed a particularly hard one on Bailey's face, causing the teen to back up a few feet, touching her nose. "Ow." Bailey exclaimed. "You made my nose bleed."

"You could always—" Jade took Bailey's foot to her stomach, and fell backwards, scrambling back onto her feet to block another blow. "Call this off."

"I'm having fun though, aren't you? I mean, you got to get some fighting in, or you're just going to get bored in this town." Bailey said cheerfully.

"Fighting isn't everything."

"We're slayers. It is to us. Fighting the real bad guys. Doing something right. Not just standing idly by."

"That's how it is here," Jade gritted her teeth as another hard blow sent her to the roof, clattering among the shingles, and she kicked at Bailey's leg in recompense, who tripped, stumbling back out to the flatter edge of the roof, rather than the slanted middle.

"I think you just use that an excuse. You just don't want to fight because you're scared. I mean, unless you have a good reason. I'm dying to hear it."

"They don't deserve to die because of what they are."

"Are you kidding me? What is with your equal chance crap? They don't have a soul. They're beyond saving."

"Souls don't mean shit!" Jade shouted, her throat hoarse, tone breaking as she righted herself and flung herself at Bailey. "People. Do. Terrible. Things whether they have them. Or not." With every word she struck out, landing more and more blows on the teenager, who for once was looking at her with something akin to fear. Bailey's face was bleeding heavier now, bruises purpling her face, and she was clutching her arm. She was still defending herself from Jade's onslaught, but wasn't quite able to hold her own under the older Slayer's fury, falling back into a defensive stature instead of an aggressive one. Jade fell back into her familiar routines, no longer clumsy or slow, or even holding back. She threw her strength behind each hit, moving with the speed and agility she had once been proud of. Jade dodged the fist aimed at her head and caught Bailey by the wrist, twisting her around, back to Jade's front. They had stepped their way to the edge of the building, looking down now at the several stories below them. Such a fall wouldn't kill a Slayer, but it would hurt. Jade held her there.

"What happened to you?" Bailey asked so quietly Jade barely heard it, deciding to ignore it. Bailey tried to free herself, but Jade twisted tighter, and with a yelp, Bailey stopped struggling. For a moment, they both panted, trying to catch your breath.

"You need to leave town." Jade spoke, her tone dripping with acrimony, done playing nice. She had lost her composure, and it bothered her. Bailey had brought back memories Jade had a hell of a time pushing from her head, and she had beaten the crap out of the younger kid because of it. And now she was threatening her, leaning her over the edge. Bailey's body went rigid, fear pumping through her body. She was taller than Jade, just barely.

"You're not going to drop me," Bailey spoke, but that confidence from earlier had drained almost completely from her tone.

"Wrong." Jade pushed her off the edge.

With a surprised howl, the girl sank down through the air. In the last seconds, she just managed to right herself, into the dumpster wedged in the alleyway before buildings, landing there on the trash instead of the hard pavement. Luckily, the top of it had been open, instead of an equally hard metal top. Which Jade had definitely checked before she dropped the girl. Except she hadn't.

"Oh shit, oh shit." Jade ran her fingers through her scalp, pushing away all the loose brown curls that had fallen from her ponytail during the fight. "What the hell are you doing, Jade?" She whispered to herself. She was lucky as hell that Bailey had dropped herself in that dumpster. Bailey could have broken bones hitting the ground if she had twisted the wrong way, hit her head even. Quickly, she hung herself off the edge of the building, beginning to climb down. In the back of her head, she heard that little voice in her head, _You stood up for yourself. You did what had to be done_. It congratulated her, and she hated it. She climbed, jumping the last story and rushing to the dumpster. Bailey was slowly pulling herself out of it. Jade reached to help her, but Bailey pushed her hand away as she landed, rather unsteadily, on her feet.

"Are you crazy?" Bailey shrieked, leaning against the metal container, coffee grounds and yogurt tabs on her jeans. "You threw me off a building!" Bailey wiped the blood from her chin, another cut on her forehead. She didn't look like she had broken anything, but was sore. Small mercies, at least.

An apology was on her lips, but Jade forced that away. She had done the deed, there was no use not using it. If intimidation was the only thing that got Bailey out of this town, she was obligated to use it. For Bailey's sake. The Bailey she just threw off a building and into a dumpster. Well, there was that whole 'for her own good' speech she could utilize at some point, probably.

"And the vampires, when they find you, will do much worse. So just get out of here while you still can."

"I'm not going to go anywhere," Bailey protested. "I'll fight you off if I have to."

Jade's reply was cut off by a low chuckle, a figure stepping out of the dark, his features pulled into a smile, enough for her to see the sharp edges of his teeth.

"Well, well. What do we have here? Again with the Slayer vs Slayer bit, crumpet? You have a knack for getting along with the ladies."

Jade couldn't help but smile herself, elation replacing the anger that Bailey had provoked, glancing back at the man emerging from the shadows.

"Spike."


	22. Chapter 21

**21**

Well this was a treat. He'd caught a glimpse of them a few minutes after sunset, after he was finally free to leave that damn Slayerette van. It was an awfully cramped ride, and hell if he had wanted to stretch his legs. Well he could have, had he been alright with the bursting into flame notion. No, combustible Spike had to wait in the van until night fell, listening to two Slayers talk strategy. He'd talked them into playing Sex, Murder, Marry for a while, but then they had ignored him. They had wanted to scan the bloody town themselves, but he convinced them to wait an hour. After all, there was one woman that would help them with who they were looking for, and Spike was the best bet to find her first. Jade wasn't all that fond of the other Slayers, so if he came round knocking on her door, they'd have a better bet. Besides, he had his own reasons for wanting to talk to her alone, that the other two Slayers didn't know about.

He didn't even know their names. Or he probably did, but forgotten, so he had been calling them Peach and Daisy in his head to sort it all out. The lighter haired woman was Peach, and the other one was Daisy. They'd been sent with him on this mission, which he supposed he'd deal with, because once they found the runaway, someone needed to drive her back, and with the Slayers there, Spike didn't need to go. He could stay in Haven for a bit. Fulfill a debt that was long overdue. It thrilled him just thinking about it, the corners of his mouth lifting with glee. Oh it would be fun.

But first, he had to track down the Slayer of Haven. And it had been easy enough. Her familiar scent hadn't been that hard to pick up, even more so when he realised it was paired with fresh blood. He had found her a few minutes after that then, his ears picking up much of the fighting on the roof. He shook his head with some delighted astonishment that Jade had already found who he and the Slayers were looking for. The little runaway, who Willow had tracked here. They were bloody lucky that they had a witch like Willow to be able to find the girl at all. Whether unknowingly or not, she had ran to the one place that they couldn't find her, at least not easily. Haven had its ways of negating locating spells from the outside. Even Willow had trouble with it. She had confessed that it had taken her a handful of times to find Spike the last time, and even more to appear on his TV. But that was the beauty of Haven, among other things.

And right now, one of those beauties was watching an impressive fight. He had settled in to watch. He was pretty sure they weren't going to kill each other, and besides, he liked the peek. He hadn't gotten much of a look at Jade's fighting skills the last time. Stake-sized holes and all. Though he was half-way through his cigarette when the tussle, which he thought might be short and sweet, was beginning to get nasty. He had found himself focusing on Jade first, the way she fought when she wasn't wounded. Compared to the grace and finesse of the other Slayers, their fancy flips and twists, she was much more straight forward. She wasn't that skilled at dodging, or even blocking, but she could take heavy hits. Spike knew how strong Slayers were, but with every shot that Jade took, she would stagger, shrug it off, and throw herself back in, without missing much more than a beat. It was when Jade's shout split the air that the atmosphere of the fight changed. Instead of two Slayers reveling in their competition, a fight for pride rather for pain, something broke through Jade's composure, and like a animal, she began hitting with quicker, harder strikes, too chaotic for the younger Slayer to block.

It surprised Spike, her ferocity. He had seen the extent of her courage, and her ability to take a punishment, but he hadn't really seen her angry. The emotion he heard in her tone then reminded him of when the girl named Neva had been killed. Though Spike had heard the words uttered between the girls, he still wasn't quite sure what had flipped Jade's switch. However, it was fairly amusing. He hadn't crossed paths with the younger Slayer, although he had heard tales of her exploits from Daisy and Peach after the minx had run off. Apparently she was right bratty, and maybe perfectly deserving of this beat down. After all, Jade wouldn't go too far.

And then Jade pushed Bailey off the roof. Spike watched with a mixture of surprise and enjoyment. "Bloody hell!" He commented, pushing himself up from his viewpoint. "Ten points to Slayer Senior." He could hear Jade muttering to himself, horrified with what she had done, although it just amused Spike further. At least that proved that the brunette wasn't going to pummel the runaway Slayer further. That would have been a little overkill. By the time he made his way down, they were back to arguing again, and Spike figured it was a good enough time to make himself known. And so he had stepped out of the shadows, and saw the little smile that spread over Jade's lips when she saw who it was. He felt a twinge of something rocking in his stomach, but perhaps it was just unfamiliarity. After all, there were very few people that were genuinely happy to see Spike after long absences, one of them being, embarrassingly, Andrew. The little geek had almost cried when he had seen Spike for the first time after he had been killed by closing the Hellmouth. And yes, though the rest of the Scoobies seemed sincerely grateful Spike was once more along the living—well, unliving, that novelty had worn off fast. One of Spike's best qualities, it seemed, was bringing the antagonistic qualities out of other people. Except for Jade, who admittedly, seemed to pick up that skill herself, at least where there were other Slayers involved.

"The one and only." He saw the relief on her expression. She was relatively unhurt, although her pale skin more easily displayed the bruises that she had gotten from fighting with the younger Slayer, Bertha or Bonnie or whatever her name was. There were far too many Slayers to keep track of all their names, even if Spike cared enough to try. Jade's gaze was bright as she looked back at him, her full lips marked by a fresh line of blood. And he could smell that blood, the saccharine, tempting aroma. And he could still remember that taste of Slayer blood, of her blood from his appetizer months ago. It still goaded him with its memory. He had had an easier time of getting used to drinking just animal blood than Angel, who had fought with his addiction for nearly a century, but that was because bloody well couldn't have drank anything else after that chip had been put in his head. And yes, while after his soul had been reclaimed, he kept to his non-human only diet, it didn't mean it didn't tempt him from time to time.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bailey was complaining, after sighting the blonde vampire. She leaned against the dumpster bin for support, bracing her stomach with one of her arms, still panting in an effort to regain her breath. She was as young and as bratty as he had been told, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "You found me already?"

Jade looked from the girl to Spike. "You were looking for her?" Jade asked with a curious frown, and Spike shrugged.

"Not me, darling. The Slayerettes have a bone to pick with her." As if on queue, he heard footsteps behind him, and he could turn slightly to see the two Slayers he had made the trip with coming into the alleyway. Bailey let out a displeased wheeze. The confusion was deepening on Jade's face as she looked between all the players.

"Why's that?" Jade asked, her eyes trailing Bailey as the teen resignedly stepped over to the other two Slayers. "Didn't Buffy send her here?"

"Not quite. Ran off in the night. Sent her parents in a right tizzy, blaming the Slayers for not protecting their child. So Buffy sent her little Slayers out here to track down the rogue."

"Aha! Rogue. That is a rogue Slayer. You're the definition of a rogue Slayer. Not me." Jade spoke with an uncharacteristically goofy outburst, pointing triumphantly at the teenager, and he right stared at her for a minute.

"That is what I said," He said, awkwardly, and she blushed in response. She ran her fingers through her long, mussed brown hair, which had gone far astray in the battle. It was a sight to see. How Buffy managed to keep her blonde curls in perfect condition throughout all her fights were a mystery in its own. Hairspray or magic, it was a tossup. Though Jade looked like she had been put through the ringer, her boots smudged with dirt and blood, a rip in her jeans. She looked quite the roughed-up warrior. Except for the color flooding into her cheeks at her display.

"Sorry. It's been a long day." She grimaced, and glanced at the three Slayers, who were amidst their own discussion.

"But I was helping. As in I was doing it all by myself." The teenager defended herself, sulky.

"Your parents are worried sick. And what makes you think you can just up and leave whenever you want to?"

"You make it sound like I was leaving the army." Bella or Barbie responded, nursing her bruised cheek.

"You made a promise, the same as any of us. You can't just leave because you're bored. We work together or we get killed."

"Come on, Slayers throughout century have been alone. I mean, I know I didn't have a watcher or anything, but that's why I came here, because there was another Slayer here already. And hey, why does she get to be alone and I can't?"

"She didn't make the same promise you did. And she's older. Bailey, you know you have to wait until you're eighteen to make your own decision. For now, you have to answer to your parents, and they want you back home. Now we're heading back to the car."

Bailey—that was apparently her name, let out what must have been her fifth sigh in a row. She turned back to Jade before following the Slayers. "I guess you're happy now, right?"

"Little bit." Jade was honest. "You fought well, though."

"You did too, I guess." Bailey rolled her eyes, but she wasn't completely rejecting Jade's offer for a cease-fire. "For a pacifist. See you around. Oh, sorry about the mess."

Jade looked back at Spike, a tad hesitantly. "Are you going with them, then? Or—you weren't looking for her, then?"

"Try not to miss me ladies," Spike called to the departing Peach and Daisy, who swung their hands inaudibly. So they hadn't exactly bonded, but there were a bloody ton of Slayers, he couldn't possibly know them all. Although they all seemed to know him. Perks of being one of the few males and one of the two Souled Vampires in their lot. Not to mention, they loved to chat about Buffy and him. He only wished Buffy was as willing to chat. In the two months he had been with the Slayers, it had always been business. And in the downtime, she was always with someone—talking with Willow, discussing with her squad leaders, visiting her sister. Spike had tried to get her to talk to him—and she did, but never about any of the things he had wanted, never about them. So when Willow had provided him with some information that was a much-needed distraction, he was all too willing to return to Haven. The coincidence that the one he was looking for was in the same town as Jade would have been a greater one, if Haven wasn't exactly what it was—where you went when you didn't want to be found. However, there was fewer and fewer magicks that Willow couldn't overcome. So with sinister gladness, he was here to exact some revenge.

"Different errand in mind. One I'd like to ask your help for, actually." Spike had seen the light smile fluttering on her lips after he had waved goodbye to the Slayers, grateful he was staying, but then curiousity changed her expression, and she arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Oh? What can I help with?"

"Got some juicy information about someone. Got a score to settle with him, could use some more muscle. He's a crafty son of a bitch demon. His name's the Doc, and he's here. In Haven."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thank you to everyone who keeps reading, and to those who wrote a review. I appreciate it a lot, it makes me really happy to see them, and more motivated to write more, so I can get further ahead. I still have a pretty good plot line of where I want everything to go and happen, like a one line synopsis for an episode, but actually writing the whole thing out is a little more work. I haven't written this much of a story and been able to keep going without getting writer's block for a long time, so it's due to you readers and my love of Spike. Anyway, hope you enjoy! And if you'd like to write me a review for my birthday today (even bad ones, they help too!) that'd be sweet ;D, I love hearing feedback!_


	23. Chapter 22

**22**

"Doc?" Jade echoed. There was a bloodthirsty glint in Spike's eye at the mention of the name. Whoever this Doc was, she had a feeling he wouldn't fare well once Spike got his hands on him. Spike. She had thought about it, of course, he coming back to Haven. No, she hadn't dropped low enough to walk past his apartment to see if he was there, but she had thought about it. More than once. And while she had told him that he knew where to find her, she hadn't expected that he actually would. And in a time so short in the comparatively long life of a Vampire. She had been half afraid she'd be old and gray before he waltzed through her town again. But there he was, clad in his full leather and signature duster jacket. She knew she shouldn't be so affected. He was handsome, infinitely charming, and there was that accent, but he was also hopelessly in love with Buffy, any moron could see that. She couldn't compete with that woman, not in any shape or form. But it wasn't about that. He was asking a favor of her, and she was more than willing for the distraction. Besides, she had done her job, Bailey was heading on out. She'd tell the Sheriff the next she saw him, or just hoped he realised the absence of burning demon houses and call it a win. "I haven't heard of him."

"He might be going by a different name," Spike said, somewhat dismissively. "But he's here." He spoke with confidence, determined to at least, believe it.

"How do you know?"

"Willow. She found 'em for me. Little locator thingamajig. Led here."

"But I thought—" Jade frowned, her anxiety piqued. "I thought locators didn't work from the outside, in fact, they have a heck of a time just working from inside Haven." There were a couple of people who could do searching spells, but that was from within the confines, where it was somewhat easier. But Haven was made to be hard to crack, and the thought that someone had unnerved her.

"She's a mighty fine Witch, that Willow." Spike spoke with grudging admiration. "I have the address." He showed her the piece of paper between his chipped black nails. "Figured I'd pay him a visit. Thought I'd ask you if you were interested."

Jade let the topic drop, of Willow being able to pierce Haven's boundaries, though it still worried her. The point of Haven was not to be found, but apparently it wasn't that simple. It never was. But that didn't matter now. The way Spike was talking was that he was raring for a fight, and she wanted to know more. Okay, so in all honesty she didn't need much of a reason to help Spike, but she was curious. She didn't know very much about the platinum blonde vampire, and she wanted to. Though he had some dark tether with this demon named the Doc, she wanted to know the details. Know more about Spike. "I take it you want to kill him?"

Spike nodded.

"Why?"

"Look, if you don't want to help," Spike was backtracking now, as if he'd asked for too much. Or perhaps he believed as Bailey had, that Jade was soft and avoided fights.

"No, I'll help." Jade said, meaning it. "I'm just curious."

"Fair enough." He looked at her for a moment, the smooth curve of his defined cheekbones ever so present as he sucked in his lower lip. "He betrayed me once. Made me break a promise. People got hurt." Something flashed in his eyes, similar to pain, but he hid it well. And she knew as sure as anything that he wasn't telling the whole story, but it was enough. She didn't need to know anything else to help him.

"Then he'll pay for it." She promised. "Lead the way."

It wasn't far, even with walking. And Jade walked fast, eager to put the vampire nest as far away from her as possible. She was extremely lucky that none of the vampires had stumbled on her and Bailey while they had been fighting, or after in the alleyway. Either they were laying low or perhaps they had moved. But the vampires didn't matter now. What did was Doc. His house was near enough that they'd likely be able to find him and finish this tonight. But she had some leeway if it dragged out further. It was nighttime, and she didn't work tomorrow. She'd spend the night helping, if that's what it took, although the sad realisation was worming its way back into her head that after this whole adventure, he would be off again. A very small part of her hoped that finding and killing the demon wouldn't be so easy, but common sense wore out. Better to just get it done instead of trying to drag it out.

"This is it." They stopped in front of a house, crammed in between a bunch of other ones, in another dilapidated street that had shutters falling off and shingles missing. Although decidedly, this one-story flat was the better looking of the lot, with Spike mentioning the man didn't like living in squalor. "Now remember, he may look human, but he's not. A tail and a bloody pain in the ass tongue. He's fast, and he's hard as bloody hell to kill."

Jade nodded. "So how you want to kill him, then?"

"Well, he survived a sword to his chest and falling off a tower of death, so he's damned resilient. But if we chop him up into pieces and burn him, that ought to do it. Do most things, anyway."

Jade twirled her machete's grip between her fingers. "We'll get it done." She thought briefly on the irony that after telling Bailey she couldn't go around and needlessly slaughter the demons and vampires in Haven, Jade was about to kill one herself, based only on Spike's word. But Jade knew the rules of Haven, and it didn't prevent deaths in totality, just mass slaughter. If Doc was the lone demon Spike promised, a creature on the run, she was sure his death wouldn't provide too many ripples throughout the community. After all, it had suffered enough in the last couple of days. Spike nodded at her, displaying the edge of his teeth through his smirk. There was a dark anticipation in his eyes, an animalistic elation before the battle. Whoever this demon was, and whatever he had done to make Spike want him dead, Jade almost felt sorry for the demon. She wondered if he would be anything like the last ones they had fought, and she almost shuddered at the memory. That fight had been brutal. And Spike had nearly been killed. If their enemy was anything like _that_ , the duo would have a hell of a time. Still, she was in it to the end. If she wasn't, she knew the blonde vampire would just carry on by himself, alone, and she wasn't about to let that happen.

They slowed as they neared the front door, and both of them had subconsciously made an effort to make as little sound as possible. Jade was nearly holding her breath, but Spike didn't breath at all. He reached for the door, not knocking, and determining that it was locked, pulled the doorknob out of the door and kicked it in. Jade followed after him, because there was no hiding now. They spilled into the house, which was small and mostly open, even messier than Gia's house had been, covered with magic trinkets and dusty old books. But as much as she looked around, she didn't see anything with a tail, an evil demon that would be hard to overlook.

"No-one's here."

"I can bloody see that," Spike snapped back, frustration in his tone, though not at her. He let out an irritated sigh, kicking a box with his foot. She winced as something smashed. She wasn't going to go on an unfettered rage in this house. She didn't want to get cursed with another head or get turned into a smoking pile of ash because she touched the wrong object. She wasn't the one obsessed with the magic shop like Lyth was, and her roommate would probably recognize some of these things, but Jade was ignorant. "Ponce gave me the slip again. Son of a bitch!"

"We can still find him." Jade said, trying to reason with him. He seemed genuinely upset—maybe pissed off would be the better word—about the Doc's absence. "You can pick up his scent, can't you?"

"I'm not a bloody blood hound." Spike was still aggravated, his tone tense. "Look at his desk, will you? See if he's just out for a trot."

Jade nodded. There were many papers, but most of them were written in some symbolic language she couldn't decipher—couldn't even know where to start. She glanced back at Spike, who was pulling out papers in increasing agitation. About to tell him that she hadn't seen anything, she saw something flicker from the shadows, from near the doorway, behind Spike. "Spike!" She warned, but Spike's head twisted towards her instead, the curiosity on his face suddenly changed to pain, as he yelled out "Ow!" And fell to the ground. She hadn't even heard it, the whistle of metal as it went through the air, it was far too fast. Spike's back was to her now, and she could see him clutching at his shoulder, where blood dripped.

And there standing before Spike, with a sword dripping red with blood was the demon. At least… that's who Jade assumed must be the demon. He didn't really look like one at all. Not that she was unfamiliar with that concept, Lyth was a full blooded demon but she could look human if she wanted to. Like the man did before them, who really just looked like an old man in his late sixties. He was old and skinny, with large monocled glasses. The only thing that really looked off about him were his how black his irises were. He smiled, displaying all the wrinkles on his face, a look that could be harmless on a normal senior, but seemed creepy here.

"You broke my door," He shook his head as if he was aghast, his tone light. "Don't you remember me telling you that I always keep it open?"

Spike rose from the ground, tall and imposing, his shoulder wound forgotten. "Ah, Doc. And I was starting to think that this evening wouldn't have a good ending." He sounded elated, the thrill of the fight back in him.

"Well you're right. It will," Doc nodded his head cheerfully. "Just not for you and your friend here."

Jade held her machete tighter, waiting for Spike's mood.

"See, I just got settled here and everything, and you've made a huge mess. Now I'll have to clean up after you."

"I don't think you'll have that problem." Spike promised, and lunched at the smaller man. Jade jumped over the desk to cross over towards them, dodging to the left as Spike was thrown backwards, flying through the room and smacking against the wall. Jade turned her focus on Doc, who was smiling at her amicably. She struck out with her blade, but he was already gone, behind her, and she twirled quickly enough to match metal with metal. He was definitely no old man. He kicked out at her, a blur, and she was falling backwards. His tongue then whipped through the air, long and fast, daring out through the air and wrapping around her neck. It was stronger than she'd expected it to be, tightening around her larynx. She brought up her machete, having no qualms about cutting it in half if she had to when he swung her around with it instead, releasing her and snapping the tongue back into his mouth before she had a chance to cut it, her blade whistling through empty air. Letting out a hoarse cough, she stepped up to join Spike, who had bounced back into the fray

The white-haired vampire was slower than Doc, but Doc, for his strong tongue and quickness, wasn't horrendously strong. If the two of them got hold of the demon, Jade was sure they could overpower him. It was just the matter of catching him. She ducked into the fold, parrying Doc's sword thrust with her blade, as Doc kicked out at Spike. The vampire jumped back, dodging it. "I've been waiting for this a long time, Doc." As Doc narrowed his black eyes at Spike, Jade struck down with her blade, hitting the old man's knuckles, enough force that he dropped the sword, which clattered to the ground. Jade kicked it away, backwards.

"I'm not so sure of that." Doc twirled quickly, so quickly, his outstretched foot catching Jade in the calf. She stumbled, and Doc punched her in the face with enough force she stumbled to the ground, dropping her own blade as well. Spike surged in to take her place, and Doc grabbed the vampire by his jacket, taking a punch to his wrinkly cheek as he picked up the vampire and threw him through the air, right at Jade. She moved, but half of his body still caught her. It didn't hurt her, the impact of his back smacking into her torso, as much as knock the breath out of her. Doc was backing up now, towards one of his bookshelves, but not yet close enough to the door.

"You're not going anywhere, Doc," Spike told him, without so much as a glance at Jade, keeping his eyes on the target. The target that started to giggling.

"Oh you're right, you are." Doc spoke with glee. "I'm not. You two are." With lightning fast speed, faster than Spike climbing off of Jade and Jade right behind him, Doc grabbed a small round ball, crystallized and jewelled, from his bookcase and threw it at the two of them. All of a sudden, there was a explosion, and then a vortex, sucking and pulling, everything beginning to gravitate into the jewel, which had broken open, creating something…

"It's a portal!" Jade shouted, for suddenly all the air was roaring in her ears, the lightweight papers flying in first. She was knocked off of her feet almost immediately. "It's pulling everything in!" And indeed it was. Spike and Jade were so close to the apex that there wasn't much time to react. Spike had reached out behind him to grab the desk. Jade watched her machete shift, then lift up and fly into the gray, opening light. Doc's blood covered sword had yet to fly in, just close enough for her to grab it, take it and bury it into the wooden floor, in order to keep her own self from being pulled in next. But the gravity's pull was only increasing. She could see Doc just barely past the opening vortex. He had been closer to the door, and his tongue snapped out, pulling him further away from danger. How far was the gravity wave, and would it stop? It was taking all of Jade's strength just to keep herself from getting sucked in, only a couple meters away. The floor began splintering, pieces of the wood getting eaten by the growing portal.

She heard the squeak of the desk behind her, which was Spike's handhold. He was a couple feet behind her, further away from the vortex, but he didn't seem have any more luck in breaking the hold than she did. She gripped tighter onto the sword, but the cracking of the wood was ripping open the floor, loosening her sword's grip. Her legs, closer to the portal, began to lift of their own accord, towards the devouring energy. The sword gave a shuddering jolt, the wood beneath it giving away, pulling her closer to the portal. Her sword wouldn't last much longer, and as soon as she thought it, she heard Spike's voice, just barely over the roar of the vortex.

"Take my hand!" He was yelling at her, and she looked up, an action that was getting considerably harder as the pressure on her increased, and there he was. Holding one hand onto the iron desk that was heavy enough to be lasting longer than her sword, he was outstretching his arm as far as it would go to her. She got a look of his face, the anger and urge for battle gone, just urgency and concern, his dark brows pulled into a frown. She used the sword as a climbing rock, pulling herself past it, torso just climbing past the blade. She reached out as far as she could, her fingertips grazing his. "Come on, Slayer, stretch," He ordered her as the vortex made another howl, growing in size and pulling in one of the book cases. Her arms were trembling with the weight she felt she had to carry, the added density from the portal. Gritting her teeth, she pushed off with the tips of her toes, this time finding her hand solidly in the grip of Spike's. At another time, she'd note that his hand was room temperature, almost cool, while her sweaty, warm hands weren't the most attractive thing in the world, but all that mattered now was survival.

"There you go." Spike told her, as if the extra feet she had gained would mean anything. More was getting pulled in, the portal only growing, and the stress on their muscles even more. She held onto Spike's hand with both of hers, but she felt the pressure increase again. Spike's desk made a grating noise, coming forward another inch. "It's not buckled in." Spike yelled. He looked down at her. His face was lit by the light of the portal, pupils constricted, and the light blue color of them more visible. Jade's feet began to lift again, and Spike grunted, the weight of her on him as well as his own, not to mention the mere pull that was on them both. More of the floor began to disappear, a piece of splintered wood cutting Jade's cheek as it flew past her. Artifacts, ornaments, they were freeing themselves from the walls as well, and Jade and Spike had to dodge the flying projectiles as well. She was finding it harder to hang onto Spike, as the desk sounded another murderous squeak, bringing them closer to doom. The vortex was growing, threatening to encompass the house, getting closer to Jade's feet. With effort, she pulled her knees up towards her stomach, legs trembling with the very effort. The desk moved another inch, the momentum shaking her enough, she felt her grip on Spike slipping. "Hold on, damnit."

"I'm trying," She said back to him, her words lost in the roar of the portal, but he read it off her lips, his brow furrowing deeper, teeth grit with the effort. Another screech from the desk. She glanced over her shoulder at the portal. It's growth rate was seeming to slow down from what it had been at the beginning, but the sheer pull on them was only increasing. It might not be able to swallow them and the house, but it could pull them in.

A heavy bust fell to the portal's compulsion, and as it flew through the air, it struck off Jade's shoulder. The jerk caused her to lose her grip, and she slipped from Spike's hand. She could just hear the "No!" Leave his lips as she fell back, grabbing at his ankle in the last minute, wrapping her arms around his leg as if he was her last tie to this Earth. And he probably was. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!" He yelled at her over the roar, and she could see the relief in his eyes. But it'd be shortlived. The desk wouldn't hold forever, not if this kept up. Not with the two of them. "You hold on tight now," He added, seeing something in her face. "Climb back up."

"It's not going to hold both of us," She called back to him as they sunk another inch closer.

"Don't you bloody say that!" He shouted with indignation. "Climb back up!" He stretched out his arm again, gesturing for her to take it. She could feel the pressure increasing, her legs trembling with the effort to keep them up and away from the portal. She couldn't hold on much longer, if the house didn't cave on them first.

"You might be able to get out," Jade shouted back, and she couldn't help the desperation in her tone. She couldn't do this much longer. She was going to fall into it—hell, they both probably were. If she let go, Spike might be able to use his vampire strength to climb away, to the other side of the desk before it toppled into the portal.

"Don't play the sodding martyr with me, you bint. I get enough of that from Buffy! We're both getting out of this." Spike yelled back at her, furious. At any other time she'd be touched that he cared, but at the moment, it just filled her with dismay. There was no other way, couldn't he see that?

"You won't be able to kill Doc!" She tried to appeal to his anger, to whatever urge he had to see the demon dead, in hopes it would reason with him.

"I don't give a damn."

"Spike," She glanced up at him. They were slowly getting dragged backwards. Even his blood, still dripping from his shoulder, was being pulled through the air in tiny droplets. Her hair was being pulled back, in its ponytail so much that it hurt. "I can't hold on much longer."

"Well, damnit, try!" He tried bringing his own knee up, like she had with hers, so he could pull her further away from the vortex. A vein on his neck popped out at the effort. She could feel his legs shaking as he tried. He had returned his other arm so that he could hold onto the desk with both. She opened his mouth again, and he looked at her, as if knowing what she'd say next. Then what he did next surprised her. "Fine." He yelled. "Fine, but we're bloody doing it together." Now it was her turn to convince him otherwise, but he didn't give the chance. The desk gave another lurch, and the white haired vampire let go.

Together, they were pulled into the portal.


	24. Chapter 23

**23**

Good God, he felt like he had been put through the wringer. The brief glimpse had had of Jade and he being pulled into the portal had been eclipsed by a bright light, with all the air of a thousand hurricanes roaring in his ears. He felt as if he had blacked out, so it could have been hours or mere seconds until he regained sense and realised he was toppling quite uncontrollably, to the ground. It wasn't far, not for a vampire, but he landed on nothing soft, the momentum he'd gained from being pushed out of the portal coming to a very unceremonious and chest-crushing end. When he pried his cheek off of the flat, hard object it had been slammed on, he realised it was a book, that all the uncomfortable edges pressing into his abdomen were all the tomes that had been sucked into the vortex before they were. They. God, he was out of it, his brain slow to click. Where was Jade? He pushed himself up onto his elbows, seeing her then, her form rolled just a few feet away, at the bottom of the book-mountain he had landed on. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she was breathing, the subtle rising and falling of her chest that he lacked.

"Jade," He called, a bit angrier than intended, but she didn't respond. Concern now overruled the irritation he had felt for her just minutes ago—was it minutes?—and he climbed down to reach her, loose papers and smaller tokens sliding down with him. He reached her, kneeling beside her. "Jade." He reached for her elbow, which was laying on her stomach, small and thin and easily encapsulated by his hand. Lifting it up, he shook it, not too gently. She was a Slayer, after all. Getting the wind knocked out of her and getting tossed around were part of the job. As it was, she responded, her eyes fluttering open, that pale blue that mirrored his own. She looked confused, dazed, but otherwise unhurt.

"I'm okay," She reassured him, her voice slightly hoarse. She looked up, then, as he had as of yet, failed to do. "Is that where we fell from?"

He glanced up, bid by her voice, seeing the tear in the sky. Or rather, lack of a sky. This place around them seemed to be shrouded in a darkness that was neither sky nor walls. The split gleamed brighter for a moment, spewing out more of its captured bounties, larger objects that rained to the ground, a rocky, indeterminate formation beneath them that was a dusty gray. His eyes widened as a bookcase fell through next, crashing and splintering into a thousand wooden pieces, a couple of feet from where he crouched next to Jade. The rest of the bookcase that remained intact tottered slowly to its side, falling with a loud thump. The only sound they really heard in this place of echoes and silence. All he could see was the rocky ground beneath their feet and the encompassing black that wound all around them, making it seem as if their world had become incredibly tiny and infinitesimally large all the same time. It was impossible, even for his vampire-sight, to see through the thick darkness around them, the only light coming from the tear in their sky, which ran like a spider web, delicate strands splintering above them, a thin, light line that had borne fruit only above them, where it had becoming brighter, stronger, more effulgent—

God, he could never use that word again, could he?

"Looks like." He answered her. She had propped herself up on her elbows, but still had yet to stand. She grimaced as she felt along her skull. "I'll give it a look," He motioned, but she shook her head.

"Just a bump. Hit my head on these…" She looked around them. "Books, I guess." She glanced back up at the tear with some trepidation. "Is it going to stop, or is there about to be a house falling on our heads?"

"Don't know." He glanced back down at her, and she gazed back, her simple curiosity turning steeled to match the seriousness of his own face. "Now, back to the point, have you gone mad?" His eyebrows arched inquisitively, and she flinched slightly, before that defensive shell took over her expression.

"Didn't seem like there was much choice." She responded quietly.

"Choice!?" He echoed indignantly. "How about not get sucked into the bloody vortex?"

"We were getting sucked in no matter what. At least once of us was," Jade argued. "And you're the one who let go."

"Because you were going to, like a loon." Spike defended his own crazy. No, he hadn't exactly wanted to go through the glowing Stargate of death, but she hadn't left him much choice, had she? He wasn't afraid of the unknown, even if it didn't appeal to him all that much, but to let her get pulled into it all alone while he was the one who dragged her into his own task of vengeance, no, he couldn't let that be. Perhaps the wise thing would be to have let her go, run round to Willow and ask the redhead for witch, instead of be here, in literal nowhere land with no way to contact her, and as he checked the phone that was chipped but not broken in his pocket, no reception. But that wasn't the way he did things, not intelligent and reasonable like that. They'd find a way, somehow, even if—and he was hoping for at least something to punch to relieve his frustration—he had to beat his way through whichever monsters lingered here.

He glanced at Jade, whose full lips were in a flat line, looking rather stubborn, and reminding him of another blonde. He knew that face, knew it well, the 'I did what I thought was right and I don't need your approval' face, although it was delivered with a bit less sass and tad more reticence. He didn't know why it angered him so much, her long for martyrdom. He had been trying to keep them both steady, and she wanted to play the hero. Well, Spike had played the hero from time to time, but that was his gig. And it bothered him, that she had been so ready to throw herself in, for just a chance that he wouldn't be pulled in too. Damn Slayer disposition and their desire for death. It was bloody annoying, and it hadn't been the first time he'd seen it in her. Hell, the first time they met she had pushed him out of the way of stakes to be gored _herself_ , and that was for a bloody stranger. He didn't know what had happened to give her such little self-worth, but he was sure as hell not dealing with it. Spike fought tooth and nail to keep his own skin, undead or not, he expected that from anyone else. But whatever he was about to say, whether understanding or more insults was cut short by the loud whistling of something much bigger and _heavy_. He looked up, startled, and sure enough, there was the desk that he had been holding onto with all of his might.

And it was going to hit a little closer to home than the bookcase would.

Latching onto Jade's elbow again, he jumped to his feet, pulling her with him and leaping several meters away. She followed, albeit clumsily, though her hasty scramble to her feet was corrected by the end of the jump, landing more gracefully on her feet as the heavy metal desk fell to the ground where they had been only seconds before. He and Jade looked on it in silence for a moment until Jade gave a shaky laugh.

"I guess that settles it, then," She declared. "We were getting pulled in no matter what." Her small smile, still somewhat apologetic, rid him of whatever resentment he had been feeling. It didn't matter _how_ they had came to be here, but they were here now, and first things first. Getting the hell back.

"I knew the Doc was a tricky bastard," Spike spoke after they had wandered some meters from the hole in their sky, which was still spewing out bigger and bigger objects. Maybe the rest of the house really was going to tumble in after them. "I didn't expect the pocket dimension bollocks." He kicked a book that had lost half its papers, but it was the last of the objects that had travelled this far. The rocky expanse before them forked off, and then, stretching out before them, seeming to go on forever, and at the same time, he couldn't see much further ahead. He blinked, hard. This place was distorting his vision, not allowing him to see what for what it really was. It should be flat, like he could see for miles and miles, but it disappeared, swallowed in the darkness, and for each couple of feet they moved forward, that was how much further that was revealed. And that was how much they lost behind them.

"Guess we should decide how far we want to go," Jade commented, glancing behind them. As she looked back towards him, her expression changed to one of concern. "Spike, you're bleeding."

"What? Right." He strained his neck, trying to catch a glimpse. The cut from Doc's sword. It did hurt, he had forgotten, and the tiny sting throbbed with more strength now that he acknowledged it. He sucked in a breath as he reached round with his opposite hand, touching at the cut. It was deeper than he had thought, and had yet to clot, fresh blood sticking to his fingers. "It's not that bad. Won't kill me." He assured her, shrugging it off. After all, he was good at blocking out pain. Angel had taught him that. His grand-sire, for lack of a better word, although Spike had plenty to describe the only other souled vampire in existence. Who also happened to be in love with Buffy, as he was. And in her heart more solidly than he ever was.

"Could slow you down," Jade spoke more candidly than he expected, concern in her eyes. "Let me bandage here, while we still have the light." At her words, he glimpsed up at the tear. She was right, the further they stepped, the more the light dimmed, and it was blinding at its apex, up in the sky, but it didn't shine that far. It wouldn't lead through this expanse. Spike wasn't completely worried. He could see at night, in complete darkness even. He could lead Jade, if it came to that. But he damn well wished he knew where they'd be going. He took one more look into the darkness, then relented to Jade's request, giving her one, short nod.

"Bastard cut through my jacket," He complained as he removed it, fingering the good-sized gash in the leather. Italian leather. Gift from Wolfram & Hart. They'd given him a whole bunch, and he had kept them after the whole ordeal, but it wasn't an endless supply. Once they were gone, they were gone, and he liked those jackets. He bunched it under his arm, turning to Jade. Although her expression was calm, he could see a pink tinge on her cheeks as he removed the black shirt underneath, exposing his torso. He smiled, a wolfish smile, that she couldn't quite hide her attraction. He knew he was handsome and appealing, and it gave him an egotistical boost to notice it. Helped him feel good about himself, being the old man that he was. "Your heart's beating faster, Slayer." He teased her. Perhaps it wasn't really the time, or the place to do such things, but he never let that stop him before. Hell, they could be stuck here forever. No need to be stiff, even if he was, technically, a stiff.

She looked back at him, unimpressed and aloof, as if she could Vulcan-out and hide it, but he could see those flushed cheeks. Without answering, she began shifting out of her own jacket, reaching for her shirt and beginning to pull it up.

"Hey, control yourself. We're in a demon dimension here." He shrugged lightly. Ah, he hadn't been flirtatious in a long time. Damn that blonde Slayer and her hold over him. Nothing but a casual fling, and those weren't even what they had been before. And surrounded by all those Slayers, you think he could have used one to make Buffy jealous when he had been with her, but most of them had avoided him anyway. And the ones who hadn't, well, they hadn't peaked his interest much. They weren't Buffy, but they reminded Spike of her. All business, all the time. So superior and haughty, the lot of them. Well, most of them.

Jade shook her head, a light laugh springing from her lips, surprising him with its genuine tone. She had all the reason to be serious and solemn, but she couldn't hide her amusement, shaking her head softly as it remerged, her shirt in her hands. She wore a tank top underneath, looser and high-necked, protecting her modesty. Oh, so she wasn't quite naked yet. "Bandage." She spelled out the shirt's use. It was true, after all the damn tomes and books and paraphernalia that had been sucked through the portal, not a single med-kit.

"Uh-huh, but don't go trying to deny it," Spike gestured with a wicked smile. He was charming, wasn't he? And he'd convinced a woman into his bed many a time for all sorts of reasons. The worst being comfort, he admitted to himself, thinking of another blonde, this one an ex-demon who had been right upset after being left at the altar, and he, after being rejected by Buffy one of countless times. Her name had been Anya, and while they hadn't exactly been friends, her rudeness and candor was something he respected, she was no polite little lady that hadn't spoken her mind. She had died, in the same battle he did. The memories dampered him somewhat, but Jade was answering him, the same even tone. "You think I'm sexy." And didn't he know it.

"Turn around and kneel." Spike did as he was told, uttering a cheeky, "I guess that's a no, then." Although, to the contrary, she hadn't said a thing to it at all, just averting the situation entirely. But at least she didn't utter an eww, which he distinctly remembered Buffy did. But that had been a declaration of love, and he didn't have a soul at the time. But if there was thing that was true, William Pratt was over his lifetime, a victim of many rejections. He just knew not to take things to heart now. There _were_ more pressing things to think about, if he'd remember, so he let it be. He heard the easy tearing of her shirt, and then the press of her fingers into his flesh. They were decidedly delicate, enough so he commented, "You're not going to hurt me, crumpet. You can press a little harder."

She didn't answer, though she started to press one of the clothes onto his wound with more pressure than before. It did _hurt_ , this cut, and he grit his teeth together at being reminded of that. He couldn't be killed by such a mortal wound, even if it got infected or sprouted wings, but he still felt pain, like a living man. So he sat there and let her work at it, humming quietly under his breath. He glanced at the glowing portal. There hadn't been so many things falling from it for quite a while, tapering off slowly. "I think it's closing back up." He said to her, his chest pushing in as he did, feeling a tad more constricted. It wasn't as if he figured they could jump back into it. Even with their leaping prowess, they wouldn't get anywhere near, and that was even if it _would_ suck anything back in, if it didn't just spew it for re-entry. Or close entirely. And as Jade's fingers worked on the last tying of Spike's bandage, pulling it tight and secure, Spike's observation came true.

With a final, sputtering breath, the tear dimmed as it closed, growing smaller and smaller until it was no more than a stitch in the very light line in the sky, swathing Spike and Jade in darkness.


	25. Chapter 24

**24**

It was black. Not the kind of night-time black, where there was always light from something, whether it be the moon or the lamppost or the tiniest little phone light. The contrast between the dark and bright seemed so absolutely sudden, as if all the light was sucked out of the world in a heartbeat, leaving her feeling very, very small in an absolutely unknown abyss. She must have pulled his bandage too tight as she tied it, for she heard a sharp inhale from Spike. And if there wasn't an absolute absence of any sound, other than the two of them, she probably wouldn't have heard it. But she was, because she was still standing close, and before the light had gone out, she had been standing very close to his very bare and muscular torso. He was incredibly sculpted, and proud, from the way his personality had shifted, from someone on a mission to a cat playing with a mouse. That smirk twisting his features, attractive was a dull word for it. And her cheeks had blushed, why wouldn't they? She hadn't doubted that there was an attraction there, at least her for him, and while she could control her expression and inflections, her damn cheeks had a mind of their own. And he had teased her for it, her 'ogling', for lack of a better word. It was a man's body, an appealing one at that, and she hadn't seen one as bare as that, in such close quarters for a very long time. Or perhaps not at all, the last one had been barely more than a boy, young like she had been. Like she still was.

And very young she felt, standing in the dark, not able to see or hear Spike any more, and all those childish fears of what laid in the dark came creeping back towards her. It was ironic of a Slayer to be afraid of what went bump in the night, seeing as she was supposed to combat exactly that, but this was different. There was nothing, just a complete emptiness.

"Your eyes will adjust," She nearly jumped at Spike's voice, now behind her, his voice carrying, as every sound did. She could hear a shuffling, the light rustling of material, Spike picking up his clothes and redressing. Jade was reminded of her jacket, which she had taken off to turn her shirt into dressing. Goosebumps pricked along her skin, along her arms, making her feel cold enough to want it back. It wasn't warm, nor cold here, just empty. She knelt, trying to find something, anything in this inky blackness. She could start to see a blurry dark, but it was just different shades of black—and she thought black wasn't supposed to have a shade. Her fingers trailed through the loose dirt, and then a shuffling, the impact of air, she felt, rather than saw, that Spike crouched next to her. "Here." She felt the rough feel of the jean against her fingers, Spike pushing the jacket into her grasp.

"Thanks." Standing up, she found it silly to even face a direction, so she turned towards Spike, following the sounds he made—which wasn't very damn many, being a vampire that didn't breathe and knew how to stay still and silent.

"I'll be the eyes, for the meantime," He was trying to reassure her, none of the playfulness he had displayed a moment earlier. "No need to fret."

"I'm not," She denied, childish, trying to sound brave when she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so vulnerable.

"I can hear your heartbeat, remember? It's like a bloody jackhammer."

She almost snapped at him to just stop listening to it, but he would just laugh at her silliness again, wouldn't he. Call her a bint, or whatever word he had yelled at her when they were being pulled into the portal. She wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but she doubted that it was friendly. Instead, she took a breath, willing herself to calm down. She felt as they were boxed in, the darkness compressing down on them, in the same moment that she thought she was so small she'd get lost in this expanse around them. She felt so defenseless, her fingers grazing her hip to where her machete was normally holstered, but it was gone, pulled to the portal long before she had been. Jade hadn't thought to look for it in that mess she had fallen on, and it was too dark to attempt it now. She felt a ridiculous pang at that thought. She'd had it for a long time. It wasn't forged of any magic metal, or anything special, but it was reliable. And it had been his, once.

"What should we do?" She asked when she was sure her voice was as steady as her heartbeat.

"Walk for a bit. Got nothing to lose." Spike answered back reasonably.

"How will we find our way back to the… pile?" For lack of a better word. Maybe the tear would open again, returning everything it took back to Haven. It was a longshot, but at the very least, the mess of books was a landmark she didn't want to lose.

"Hang on a bit. Wait here." She did as he instructed, her heart beating a louder thump with each step of his feet that carried him away. The air fell heavily on her, the darkness even more. If she held her hand in front of her face she could almost make it out, a dark peach blur rather than just midnight. It seemed an eternity before she heard those steps carry closer to her again, and something larger and solid was pushed into her hand. "Here. Breadcrumbs, Gretel." She understood the reference, tearing out a page, crumpling it in her hand and throwing it at their feet. She couldn't see it, but it as long as he could, they'd have something to lead them back.

She stumbled for the third time in as many minutes. The ground wasn't flat at all, with inclines and divots. They'd been walking for a time, at a sure, steady trot. Jade followed Spike by sound, which had become of sharper focus since her sight was robbed from her, but it didn't help her walking on the ground.

"Jesus, Slayer. Didn't your Watcher ever teach you to fight with a blindfold?" Spike exclaimed, after she righted herself clumsily.

"I didn't take to it," She muttered to herself. And she hadn't. Sure, she could do it, at least she had managed, but that was arguably on flat ground. And she didn't like thinking of those days, remembering her training. She had done all she could to push it from her mind, and perhaps it showed. She heard Spike's answering sigh, stiffening as something touched her. It was his hand, reaching for her own. Her hands were chilled now, so even his felt warm, and she was surprised by the gesture until he directed her fingers around his elbow, latching her onto him.

"Keep you from stumbling like a three-legged pup."

She didn't rise to his jibe, secretly relieved. She was more assured now, holding onto him, an anchor in this darkness, something to feel, something that was real. As if she wasn't lost in the dark and something was playing tricks with her. "How far do you think we've gone?"

"Dunno," He answered her, stretching his neck back to look behind them. "Can't see that tear anymore, though. Relax," he added pre-emptively, and her nostrils flared in irritation that he could tell her discomfort by a single mis-beat of her heart. "I can see our breadcrumbs just fine."

That was comforting. At least it was supposed to be, but the truth was, so what if they could find their way back? If they weren't finding anything that could at least give them a hint of where to go, it didn't matter if they wandered around aimlessly or live on book-mountain. They had no food, no water. They couldn't last forever. Her stomach growled to further accentuate that part. Well, she was screwed, anyway. Spike could last longer than her, and he had a walking meal on legs to fill his needs should she perish. He'd be fine for a hell of a lot longer than she would be. "Do you have your lighter?" She asked suddenly, feeling the urge for a smoke, and remembering with some excitement, that a lighter provided light—which she was desperate for, but she could feel, rather than see, Spike shaking his head. "Fell out of my pocket long before we got pulled back in."

"We could find it, back at the pile."

She could feel him shrug. "Small bloody needle in the haystack, and you wouldn't be any help. Let's look around first, make sure we're not missing the exit."

If only it was that easy. They walked in silence for what could have been minutes as well as hours, absolutely nothing to do but to hold onto Spike and crumple paper at her feet.

There was nothing. No formations of rock that she could see—or feel. No exits, as Spike had put it. Just a never ending black. "Don't forget, keep exploring the map!" She muttered to herself, not meaning to say it aloud.

"What was that?" Spike asked, confused, though she knew he could hear her perfectly. He had vamp hearing for one, and as many times as he had mentioned her heart beat changing, she figured he could hear anything she said under her breath."

"Nothing. Just from a game I used to play." She said quickly, chagrined. Luckily, Spike had other things on his mind.

"There's something up there." He told her, and her stomach tensed, more instantly with anxiety rather than hope.

"What is it?"

"Don't know. Like a little light."

They walked towards it, quicker now that they had a purpose to their steps. A few minutes later Jade could see it too. A light. Very, very dim, but a light nonetheless. Her heart beat faster, but not with fear this time, excitement. She almost overtook Spike in her haste and curiosity, but he cautioned against it.

"Careful. This isn't Kansas. Think Anglerfish."

Her thoughts immediately reflected back to Finding Nemo. That was a happier movie for happier times, but she slowed her steps. He was right. Be cautious of the one light in an ocean of darkness, it might try to eat you.

"It's shaped like a…" She hung on every word Spike spoke, pleased to see that she could finally see the outline of his face, even enough to notice his eyes squint. "A bloke?"

"Another person, like us?" They sure weren't glowing. She doubted anything that looked like human in his realm actually was. Doc wouldn't have imprisoned them in a place that could help them. Unless it was just to slow them down so he could escape. Though he had surprised her with his strength and speed, she was sure that they could have overpowered Doc eventually, had the fight continued. She'd wonder if she'd ever find out, now.

The light was large, glimmering. Not overly bright, but in the darkness it was luminous. As they neared, she could see it was indeed shaped like a person, and as they came closer, that it was more a masculine form than a feminine one. A 'bloke', as Spike had said. No distinguishable features, just a blurry form.

"Hello?" Jade asked into the void. Spike shot a look at her that she couldn't quite discern. Jade had let go of him, able to see clearly now, enough to walk and not stumble. There _was_ a response, but it sounded more like interference than anything else, a bad signal on the radio.

They stood before the glowing creature, only a few meters away. She watched Spike's hands tighten into knuckles, ready for a fight.

She just wanted answers. She wondered if she was just forcing the light to make a humanoid shape in her mind, so that it would come alive and talk to them. It was a silly thing to wish for.

But that's what happened.

There was a sudden change, instead of a bright yellow beam, colors began seeping into the form, giving it distinct shape. Features began appearing. A pronounced jaw, solid chin. More masculine features, but decidedly young. It was when the form grew hair, thick, straight black hair that shot up straight from his scalp that her heart beat rapidly. Spike threw another look at her, but this one she didn't even notice, so focused she was on the building of the character right before her eyes. Didn't think to be scared, to be worried. Didn't think. Just began to compare every similarity. Its height. His height. There was no possible way, none at all. His skin turned a tanned peach, dressed in simple jeans and sweaters. Oh god, it was so similar.

"Jade?" Spike spoke now, tugging at her elbow, ignoring the lightshow before them. "What the hell is the matter." Oh, her heart again, off the charts, properly. She didn't even comprehend that that was the first time Spike had used her name instead of one of a thousand nicknames. "Let's take a couple steps back, shall we?"

"No." She didn't even realised she had spoken, but it fell from her lips, as she stared, unblinking. His eyes were still closed, this figure before them. It wasn't, it couldn't be him. But it was an exact replica. She could even see his chest rise and fall, a feature that even Spike didn't have, though he could make the motions easily enough.

"Jade." Spike pulled at her with more urgency, but she froze, watching the figure's eyes open instead. The same eyes. The same dark chocolate orbs that stared back at her, every inch of his flesh so, so familiar to her despite over a year trying to forget. Spike stared back at the man he didn't know with suspicion, but Jade couldn't find the words to say. Could he even speak? He looked alive—was it even possible that he was? That this wasn't just a tease?

"Jade?" The man-of-light spoke, sounding as afraid and as lost as she was. Her heart nearly broke at the sound—again. He was young here, they had always been the same age, but she had gone on without him. He had always looked youthful, but she felt like she had changed in the last couple years a decade worth.

"Do you know him, Slayer?" Spike asked, irritation in his tone. The vampire didn't know what was going on. Jade didn't either.

"Bennett." She breathed, in answer. And it was, it was him. The one face she expected to see when she finally passed from the world, but instead she was seeing him here. A treat or a curse? She didn't know, until he spoke?

"Why have you led me here? Why am I in the darkness?" His despair bleeds through his voice, squeezing her heart to pieces. He had never skilled at hiding his emotions. He was the passionate one, the one that felt, while she just did.

"I-I didn't." Jade tried to defend herself, tried to find answers when she didn't have any. Liquid welled up in her eyes, and she blinked hard, unable to keep the crack from her voice.

"Don't bloody talk to it!" Spike said with alarm, but she ignored him, looking instead at Bennett. Oh, Bennett. It had been so long.

"I didn't lead you here. Not on purpose. We're trapped. Can you help us?"

His sorrow-filled eyes looked back at her. "You hurt me."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why? Why did you do that? How could you do that?"

"Bennett—" She reached for him.

And got tackled to the ground. She fell heavily, bore down by Spike. She struggled against him, desperation as she pushed him off in time to see the light disappear. Bennett was gone. Again. Furious, frantic, she rounded on Spike.

"Why did you do that?" She shouted, angrily. Her voice was thunderously loud.

"Are you insane? What part about Anglerfish could you not get through your bloody head?" Spike answered, unapologetic and curt. "I probably just saved your life, but no, by all means, yell at Spike. Don't give him a bloody clue as to what the hell is going on. Who is he?"

She couldn't see Spike's face anymore, the sight gone from her when Bennett did, but she could imagine the annoyance on his face, and it dismayed her. She was shaking, thrown just by _seeing_ Bennett. By hearing his voice. And the accusations. He had never blamed her for anything before. _So it must not be him,_ the reasonable voice in her head wanted to convince her, but the truth was, he'd never really had reason to blame her for anything, except for this. The darkness, at least, if not specifically this dimension. Or something. She was confused, erratic, and Spike was still waiting impatiently for her to fill him in. "He's—he's…" Her breath was shaky, and she stared emptily into the dark. "Oh God," She whispered to herself.

"Get a hold of yourself." Spike's voice cut through her, and his hands were suddenly on each side of her, gripping her arms like iron manacles, giving her a hard shake. She didn't complain, though her body was still sore from the fall. He shook her roughly. "Get it bloody together. Whoever that was, probably wasn't real, you get that? Doc didn't send us here to have a holiday, he sent us here to mess with our minds." While brusque and candid, his words unexpectedly soothed Jade. It was just someone messing with her mind. The fact that it could be something that just preyed on the fear in her mind made it somehow easier to deal with. Better than it being real.

"Bennett. He was my… boyfriend." She hated the word. It was inadequate. They had been so young, too, that it should be discounted as a first love and nothing more. "He died. Over a year ago." She hadn't counted the exact days. Bennett would have, if she had been the one to die. But the discrepancy in his actual death made it hard to have an appropriate memorial date. She was still laying on the ground, and she rose slowly to a sitting position. She could see a blurry shape, Spike crouching near her, waiting. "He was my best friend. Since we were children. When I began training as a potential Slayer, he trained too. We did it all together. When I was activated as a Slayer, he was the first to know. He just trained harder after that." Jade managed a wan smile. Oh god, she had tried so hard forget all of it, as if it would absolve her guilt if she pretended it never happened.

"How did he die?" Spike's curious question surprised her. There was no impatience in his tone, no anger, not any more. He asked as placidly as about the weather. At least she was no longer on the verge of tears. She felt embarrassed too, and despised it. She had lost her composure, in front of Spike of all people. He who had no problem speaking his mind, tactless and with candor. She didn't think she could handle too much rough speech. She felt vulnerable, more than she had in a long time. This place was preying on her. The thought crept up on her, a paranoid fear. She realised long seconds had gone by, that she was stalling. But Spike had no patience for cowards, she should know that. Out with it. Get it bloody together, as he had said.

"I killed him." She admitted, a shaky breath exhaled. Spike took a breath as well, a inhale even she could hear. More of a response than a necessary motion; he didn't breathe. His version of a light gasp, she supposed, a far, far muted one. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. She could have just left it there; she could never really justify what she had done. Why she did it didn't matter, not to her. "He was turned." Her fault, her fault. "He rose as a vampire." And she had killed him. If only it was that simple, that easy. There was a silence, then.

"I killed my mum, you know." Spike spoke, in that same, oddly sympathetic tone, which was calm and relaxed as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did, maybe there was nothing left now for them but each other and a glowing hologram of her ex-boyfriend. And secrets, apparently. "She was sick, she was. After I was turned, thought I'd turn her too, make it right. Didn't. Made her a monster. Had to kill her again, right away."

She hadn't known that. To be honest, there was plenty she didn't know about Spike, like she had been entered into a chapter after his whole trilogy had been written. She was peeling back page by page, but she knew he had been turned in the late 1800s, over a hundred years of history to sift through. The fact that he had changed his mother with still relatively noble intentions—although admittedly selfish was an oddity in its own. He had almost seemed surprised to admit that his mother wouldn't be the same, that he was hurt by it. Jade was no better. She knew, _knew_ , damnit. She had been told all her life. Vampires couldn't be redeemed. Once humans were turned, they were gone, forever. Just because the demon had their memories, their feeling didn't negate the fact that that's what they were. Demons. And demons were evil. That's what she had been taught. But still, she had tried to deny it, tried to pretend that somehow Bennett was stronger than all the rest. How stupid she had been.

"I didn't." She said after a long breath. Her hand had reached out towards Spike to show her compassion, her sympathy, but she had stopped it before it reached him. She didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react, if he'd shove off her touch or appreciate it. She didn't have the courage to find out. "I didn't kill him right away." She clarified. "I let him go. I let him kill five people before I could admit that he was too far gone."

Five people. She hadn't been counting, hadn't consciously let him have that many choices. The next time she had found him the body count had racked up. She hadn't a choice after that. Those five, they were her fault too. Because she couldn't do her job, couldn't be the Slayer. She never could. Skip to running away, leaving it all behind. Tattooing a V on her chest so she'd punish herself, so she'd never forget. As if she could.

"Mistakes get made when there's people you care about," Spike spoke. Trying to reassure her or himself, she wasn't quite sure. The empathy cleared from his voice, and then he was business again, the matter-of-fact Spike who had a job to do. "Now, enough of this sobfest. That wasn't your boy. Just something to mess us over. Can't trust anything you see here."

"Except you."

"Except me. Let's go before they dazzle us with another light show."

Jade nodded, she moved to rise to her feet, before she felt fingers brush her own; Spike, offering her his hand. Grateful, she took it. He was right. She couldn't trust anything she saw here. She didn't know what that form was, but it wasn't Bennett. He wasn't stuck here. And even if he was, he'd never blame her. She was shaken from seeing him again, from being face to face. She'd pushed the truth away after he died so she didn't have to face it. It had been easier, but it didn't exactly grant her closure. She hadn't even buried his body. Didn't have to. All there was left was dust.

"Where to now?" She asked. Her hand was still gripping Spike's, as he hadn't made a move to draw his hand away yet. It felt more friendly than intimate, like wanting a child to follow him. But with her eyesight no more improved, she was grateful to have his guidance through the dark, the reassurance of his touch.

"We'll keep going. Still nothing to turn back to. See if we find any more Anglers."

And they did. After they had seemed to walk another age, which was indiscernible still, as hours or minutes, another light began to glow. Jade's heart constricted painfully in her chest. Can't trust anything they see. If it was Bennett's image again, she'd ignore it.

But it wasn't. It began to grow, forming a shape, and then filling out the features, as before. Dressed in older clothing, a long loose gown, an older woman began to appear before their very eyes.

"Oh, Bugger off!" Spike exclaimed.

"Oh, William," The woman replied, her caring eyes filled with tears.


	26. Chapter 25

**25**

He was staring at his mum. Any affection he should feel was overshadowed by irritation. What was it with every damn evil thing using his poor mother to get to him? It was a little overused, wasn't it? There she was, his mum, staring at him, sadder than he had ever seen her. At least sadder than she had ever _let_ him see her. Even with that wasting disease that had slowly widdled her away, she never cried, not about her useless, single scholarly son, not about anything. She had been strong and courageous, and he preserved her that way in his memory. He _really_ didn't need blatant reminders popping up every couple of years ago, seeing if they could pull good ol' Spike's leg again. Here's some emotional turmoil for the souled Vampire, isn't that fun? Well, not bloody this time.

"William, why would you bring me to this place? You sentenced me to the dark, but I would have been with you forever. You didn't give me a chance. I would have given you one. Loved you no matter what, soul or not."

"Oi, shut it." Spike snapped back. He could feel Jade's widened stare on him, confused by his antics and blatant lack of respect. But he'd had it with them trying to use the image of his mother. He wasn't going to sing to that tune, not any more. "Think you're the first to try to use my poor mum against me? Well if I broke the first evil's hold over that, think I give a damn about you? Nice try, wankers." With his free hand, he struck out his index and middle finger in the not-so-polite british salute. "Let's go, Slayer. We're wasting our time here."

He pulled her along, not gently, but she went without resistance, her hand hot under his, warming up his own skin. She glimpsed over their shoulders as they stepped away from the light-bitch that was _not_ his mum.

"William, please don't leave me again." She called at him, but Spike ignored her. It wasn't real. That's what he had told Jade, wasn't it? Although she had been on the edge of a nervous breakdown, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird's, breathing all up and twisted, so he had told her that. And it was likely true. This place was lies. And they needed to get the hell out of here so he could rip Doc's head from its shoulders and have it stay that way. No more jerking around. That demon was dead the second they got out of here. They just had to find… Something. He was dimly aware of paper tearing, another ball hitting the ground. The light faded from behind him, as well as the voice, which was a damned relief.

After a moment, Jade spoke up. "Was that your mother?"

"No." He answered sharply, and Jade was silent. He knew the generalization of her statement, so he added, to clarify, "That's what she looked like. But that's not my mum. I told you, just tricks."

"So you never talked like that to your mother?"

"It was the eighteen eighties. I was bloody respectful. Unlike kids nowadays, always yelling at their mums and stamping their feet." He had been aghast about how each revolving generation was ruder and ruder to their mums. He'd always been bred with respect in his bones, from his generation, from his livelihood and his teachings. And then there was the whole vampire bit. The siring loyalty that he had felt for Drusilla, and even Angelus. Obeying their master vampires and all that. Not that Spike had taken to that by the letter. He might have deviated once or twice, killed the Anointed one, offered to kill his Sire for Buffy's love… yeah, that last one had gone _particularly_ well. Buffy. Now she had a good mother, she and Dawn. Respectful to her for the most part, at least until the end. She had been a nice old bird, that Joyce. Reminded Spike of his mum a little, too. And what didn't remind him of his mum? That thing of light pretending to be her. Dress up in her clothes, use her voice. Doesn't earn a damn hint of his adoration. "What about you? Is yours about to pop up here?"

"No, she's still alive. At least, if that's how it works." Jade said in a contemplative tone. It was a good point. Maybe the lights did more than just play pictures with the dead. But it didn't matter to him. False, either way. Bad enough being stuck on some rock, doomed to walk around until he became an unliving skeleton. Not that that was going to happen. No, that wasn't how Spike was going out. Anything less than a dangerous battle would just be shameful. Blood and pain and euphoria, that was how he was going to die. So they damn well better hurry up and find the exit. He continued to pull Jade along, keeping straight. At least, kind of straight. Who knew, in another dimension. It could go on for ages, they could be going down a very constricted path, or God forbid, a circle. As they kept walking, another light began to beam. He didn't even skip a step.

"Keep going," He instructed Jade, ignoring the light. At least he did, until Jade spoke.

"It's Buffy."

Well damn, he didn't need to know that. The vampire slowed unconsciously, taking a look even though he _knew_ it wasn't her. But maybe it was more out of a horrific curiosity. What'd they do with her now, play with another loved one's image to toy with his brain. He'd had just about enough of it. But he still looked anyway.

And she looked back, luminous and beautiful, light shimmering from her very skin, making her ethereal rather than righteous. And those eyes, their green shine, looking softly back at him. That was a sweeter Buffy than he had seen in a while.

"Why'd you have to hurt me like that, Spike?" Buffy— _not_ Buffy spoke, her eyes filling with tears, while Spike felt a rush of anger. And guilt. "You said you loved me but—" Spike didn't let her finish. Didn't let this lie speak Buffy's words for her. It had no bloody right to remind him of those things, he thought on it often enough. He had gone through hell to get his soul back, to assure it would never happen again, and he had worked as hard as he could to absolve himself of it someday, even if he never could. He peeled the book out of Jade's hands with lightning fast speed, and hurled it at the fake-Buffy. The light went out. They stood in silence for a moment, in the blackness, his shoulders falling and rising with barely suppressed anger, the motions he would make if he still breathed.

"It didn't go through." Jade spoke, after a moment, her tone even. He had let go of her hand to grab the book, and so she hadn't moved since the darkness fell again.

"What?" He asked, irritation in his tone.

"It bounced off of her—the light. The book. As if hitting something solid."

He contemplated that for a moment. "You got a point there, Slayer?" He said after a moment, too tied with his own frustration to think on it with any detail. And he was doing the exact _opposite_ of what he had just told Jade. He was letting it bother him, just because it wore the face of Buffy. Because it spoke in her voice. Let's play Mind games with Spike, every big bad's favorite pastime.

"I'm just saying. Maybe these are something we can fight."

Spike liked that option. He crossed over to the book he had thrown, inspecting it. "Book didn't get fried to a crisp, so that's something." He tossed it over to Jade without thinking, but surprisingly enough, she caught it, albeit a bit clumsily, hands up in front of her face. She pulled out another page and ripped it, keeping her face mostly in Spike's direction. Despite the on-and off light shows, she was adapting to the darkness, as he said she would. She ripped a piece of paper off and dropped it at their feet.

In silence, they continued walking, with Jade trailing behind him, waiting for that next beam of light. He saw it first, not unsurprisingly. It took the first form again, features recreating themselves as Jade's dead love. Before it was fully forming, and had a chance to speak, Spike balled up his fist and struck at the figure. It let out a horrific noise, an overpowering humming on some high frequency, before shattering into a thousand pieces, the light dimming as the pieces fell to the ground. He and Jade just stared at the ground for a moment, when they both heard a distant roar, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Jade stumbled, righting herself as the shaking stopped.

"Did we just piss something off?" Jade asked.

"It's one of my talents," Spike replied. The dark had fallen again, but he glanced up at the sky, that thin, delicate tendril that had spread out from the portal's tear seemed a bit lighter. He wasn't sure. Mostly, he was just glad he hadn't burst into flames. He had been the one to warn Jade not to touch them earlier, but it didn't seem like punching them had any ill effects.

Except for the angry roar and the tremors.

"Maybe we should go back to where we started," Jade commented. "We haven't found anything out here, really. No big exit sign. We can go back to the beginning, see if we missed anything."

She wasn't wrong. This walk hadn't been much more than a time waster. Nothing changed in the terrain, nothing that revealed anything, except the shiny lights. He opened his mouth to answer when he saw something flicker in the shadows, something other than Jade and he. "Fine," he spoke, keeping an eye on the distortion until it was gone. "Something tells me we better hurry, though."

She had latched onto him again as he followed the ripped pages back, faster for the both of them, hanging onto his elbow as they traversed their way through the darkness. He was damned glad the papers were still there, that something hadn't been knocking them around to really screw them over. The lights appeared again, and as he had before, Spike shattered it. The roar sounded again, closer this time, the ground shaking as well. After a discussion, they decided they wouldn't stop breaking the lights. If it brought them into danger, fine. At least something was happening, and even Jade could see the difference in the sky, the lightening of the rift. "Better than nothing," Jade had agreed.

Though Spike had appreciated the fact that Jade was a fighter like him, ready to throw herself into the fray, taking hits and giving them without flinching, he admitted to himself that in this situation having Willow—first and foremost the witch—or even Giles—though he thought on that more reluctantly—along might have been more useful. Someone that knew about dimensions and portals more than him. The both of them weren't terribly versed in the arcane arts, knowing nothing about opening portals, or even what kind of demon dimension they were in. They were depending on stumbling into the answer and using their fists. But in all honesty, it _was_ getting them somewhere. Sort of. It was getting them followed by something hiding in the darkness that Jade couldn't see yet. And he hadn't warned her. She had enough trouble navigating her way in the dark without being worried that something was following them.

After the fourth destroyed light-person, he couldn't keep it secret any more. Or that is, she had discovered it herself. "Is there something behind us?" She spoke, keeping her voice steady enough, but Spike could hear her heartbeat skip as she asked the question. Even her human eyes could see it, that slight distortion in the shadows. The light above them was getting somewhat brighter, but it was far up enough to not affect their vision down below, like a star twinkling in the sky.

"More than one," Spike answered honestly. A roar sounded behind them, closer, much closer now. "And that's our cue to run." Spike pulled her hand off his elbow to wrap it in his hand instead. With that, he took off in a sprint, Jade close beside him. The sounds followed them, increasing their speed. After an absence of most things, footsteps sounded thunderous to him. No more lights showed, but he started seeing the distortions from his peripherals, as if they were running beside Jade and Spike. Whatever the distortions were. They'd find out soon enough. "The pile's up ahead," Spike told Jade, after the vampire finally sighted it. His words came out in a pant, and if he had a heartbeat, it would be beating as quickly as Jade's was. She was tired from the full-out sprint, not even wasting breath to speak.

There was a screech from behind them, and as Spike looked over his shoulder, he could see one of the distortions launch forward, moving forward with blurry speed. Spike let go of Jade's hand, telling her to jump. She obeyed immediately, and after waiting another heartbeat, Spike gathered up his strength, sailing through the air and overtaking her with his vampire leap. "Here," he called to her as she landed, so she knew which way to go. He took the second to look at where they had just been, long claw like gouge marks among the rock. And yet there were still surrounded by the dark anomalies, that were somehow not there, like a shadow, but solid enough to cut through the terrain. Jade had reached his side again, so his seconds of reflection and observation were over as the two of them continued their sprint. Now there were things at their feet, the remnants of the books and objects that had been far flung from the portal. The portal. He could see it now, a light from it once more, and it was slowly growing. It encouraged him somewhat, but it wasn't automatically a good thing. It could just mean that even if it did open again, it'd just spew out more garbage, which wouldn't be a help at all. Bollocks. Still, they reached the pile, and there was enough light for Jade to run freely on her own, without guidance. They clambered up on the books and the remainder of the bookshelves, back to back, ready to face their pursuers.

Well, kind of. If they were a little more solid, maybe. As it was, he didn't much fancy his chances with something that wasn't more than a blur but could leave gouge marks in the ground—or in people. Namely, Spike. He didn't need any large pieces of flesh taken off of him thank you very much, his body was just perfect the way it was. Spike's foot slipped a little on the not-too-steady mountain beneath his feet. All in all, not the best militaristic strategy if he fell on his arse before the fight even began. It was a better standpoint than being on flat ground, but he still couldn't see what was hunting them very closely, and he had vampire eyes. He was a sight better off than Jade, who had just gotten over the basically-blind stage. He kept his eyes constantly scanning, trying to track down the shapes as they moved. He tried to keep track of them by sound too, but there was only the faintest whir now, like the whipping of air. The roars they had heard earlier had subsided, and the bare sounds the shadows made were almost drowned out by Jade's rapidly beating heart.

Until the voice.

It came from all of them and none of them at the same time, surrounding Jade and Spike, a hollow, bodiless sound.

"You do not belong here. This world is not for the living." It droned.

"Well technically, I'm—" Spike started, not to throw Jade under the bus or anything, but it was true, if this was some land of the dead—though it just seemed to be an empty abyss with glowing lights, then Spike would fit in. Not that he wanted to stake his claim here, but he _was_ dead.

"You are corporeal," It hissed in disapproval. Well, there went that idea.

"You got me there. Done the non-corporeal thing. Have to say, I'm quite over it. Do us a favor, then, open up the little portal, and we'll get out of your hair. Claws, fumes, whatever."

"The portal opens," said the voice. Spike glanced up. Sure enough, there was another ripple, a brighter shine from the tear above them. Well, that was easy enough. But he hadn't relaxed yet, his muscles tense, all senses on alert. "But you will not escape through it. You have tainted our world."

"You still hanging in there, Slayer?" Spike murmured to Jade.

"I have your back, Spike." She said calmly. Her heart was beating more steadily now, anxiety under control. Good. He had a hunch things were about to get bloody.

He was right. The black shadows came closer, an awful screeching sound coming up all around them. They reared, looking like black wisps in the light coming from the portal. Still, how the hell were they supposed to attack clouds? He couldn't. One flew at his face, passing harmlessly through his balled fist, only to twirling past him, the tendrils forming into dark, black claws that struck across his back, three long, shallow gashes. He grunted, throwing another fist, but the smoke cloud was too fast, turning once again into gas and slipping away. He ignored the pain in his back, but a cry from Jade confirmed that she had had a similar experience. He glanced at her, blood dripping from her fingers, a long scratch down her arm. She met his gaze, concern in her blue eyes, searching for answers in his gaze. He didn't have many. They were so fast, going from incorporeal matter to material as hard and as sharp as steel. If they could react while they were solid.

"Got to get our timing down," He said, arching one of his dark eyebrows, his face serious, as if it was possible. "Hit em while they aren't solid." Easier said than done. It was captain obvious really, but Jade didn't lash out at him for asking the impossible. Buffy would have. She would have flipped that interminably blonde hair of hers, stuck out a hip and raised her fist and smartly said, "No kidding." Or maybe something a little wordier, like, "You think? Not what I was going for or anything." Yep, that Slayer was all sass and sarcasm. Five foot three inches of pep. Jade seemed more accepting, as if this was a task she had to solve. Either way, she didn't seem alarmed. Maybe resigned. And to think, she was all for getting sucked in to this hell alone. No, this was better. A fight to the end. That is, if he could actually fight, and they weren't just getting bled to death.

The shadows came again, more of them. Spike moved as quick as possible, trying to catch them during their brief punchable phase, but he was a fraction too slow, the edge of their claws slicing at his knuckles instead. He had more cuts, now on his leg and his right hip. His clothes protected him from some of it, but not much. Jade's jacket was cut up at the back, more gash marks visible. She was having no better luck at catching the shadows than he was. And yet, they didn't rush the two at once, or go for the throat. Perhaps they couldn't, or something more straightforward, Spike could catch. Although even if he landed a punch, he doubted they would just shattered, even though those light things did. Whatever those had been, shrines to the dead, just some weird demon thing.

"Spike," Jade spoke, and he was about to snap if it was one of those 'If I don't make it' conversations, because they damn well weren't going to die here for no reason. But her voice held wonder, not dismay. Something at her feet was shaking, a light wood chip from one of the bookshelves. Before his eyes, it shook more and slowly, in a haggard circle, began to rise. He glanced back up at the tear, which was rippling, continuing to grow. The portal was opening. And it was pulling things in this time. They had a chance.

"Just hang on," He told her. "We're getting out of this yet."


	27. Chapter 26

**26**

Easier said than done. Those words were on her lips, but her attention was instantly diverted by those damn monsters again. Swirling and twisting like black pillars of smoke, they circled around Jade and Spike. They had all the free shots in the world. It was all that Jade could do to protect her face and neck. Her arms, back, they were being gored by the shadow claws. Spike was no better. If anything, he had the worst of it; the shadows were focusing him more. And Spike, being the more formidable warrior of the two of them couldn't hurt them any more than she could. All they had was hope, hope that that portal would open before they were nothing but pieces of remains. And the hope that the trip wouldn't be a one way trip back to the pile they landed on. It wasn't reliable at all, shifting and loosing beneath her feet. Books, jewels, all the pieces of things that fell through with them from Doc's home. Their last stand was dusted with wooden splinters, dust, and now their combined blood, dripping down onto the papers, the metals. Metals. Her interest piqued, she saw the shine of a blade. During their brief interlude, she bent, wrapping her fingers around the blade to pull it from the rubble. Her heart squeezed with joy. She recognized that sub-par metal, the scratches on its surface. It was her machete. She was relieved to see it again, it was more of a good-luck charm than anything else. She always felt better with having it at her side. She had always put more time into swordsmanship and archery than she had with hand-to-hand. She felt better having a blade in her hand.

Didn't mean it would be any more successful at killing these shadow monsters, though. Spike was hoping the same thing.

"Don't suppose that's an enchanted machete," he commented, glancing back at her with an encouraging smile, showing the edges of his pointy teeth. That was the way with his smiles, vamp-face or not, the edge of his teeth peaked through, his canine teeth overly noticeable. When he was human, his smile was less intimidating, that sharp tooth almost giving him an endearing aura. She'd never tell him. Jade doubted Spike was the kind to react well to someone telling him that he looked 'cute when he smiled'. But it was true, relaxing her a little. It wasn't the worst company if she was to die here. She'd felt like she had a hell of a lot more purpose since meeting Spike. After Bennett died, and after she had to kill him herself, the feel of his ashes coating her skin. She remembered clawing the rest of his remains off of the ground, the mixing of blood and dirt with it in a desperate attempt to save as much of him as possible. She hadn't thought about that in a long time, forcing it from her memory. It resurfaced in dreams as punishment.

She had almost protested when Spike insisted on striking the lights to see what would happen. As he had done so, Bennett's eyes had just formed, staring at her so sadly. She had moved on without complaint, pushing bad things from her head as she always had. She chose a few things to focus on instead; Spike and making it out of here alive.

"'Fraid not."

"Damn. You know, I killed a Slayer who had an enchanted sword, once. Gave me this scar." He thumbed his forehead. She almost smiled. Here they were, facing off death, and Spike was happy to display his scars. Happy to grin and smile in the face of danger, despite the blood rolling off of his clothes.

"Should have kept it," Jade managed a smile, and then the shadows descended upon them again.

She struck out at them blindly, but they dodged, as they had before, parting around her like a river around a rock, only to strike from behind. It was the same move. It shouldn't be working again. She had been trained better than that, should be able to predict it. The thing was, she could predict it all she wanted, it was still too fast to react to. But Spike could. As she prepared herself for the inevitable pain, it didn't come. She turned instead to see Spike turned towards her as the shadows cut him, and his fist had amazingly come into contact with one—the one which had been focused on her. From the impact, it let out a horrible scream, falling back, during into a black tar-like ooze. It didn't move again. Her eyes met his. Blood ran down the side of his neck, but he held the pain stoically—gleefully, even. A dark gleam was in his eyes—triumph. He had got one. When it had turned on Jade, he had struck at it, ignoring the ones on him. That was how they would get out of this. Fighting the ones on each other. They didn't speak, didn't have a chance before the shadows let out another agonized roar, regrouping. But she nodded. She knew the plan now. Their backs moved so close to each other that their shoulder blades rubbed. Blood mixed—at another time, she'd be more worried about germs, but not now. They had to be one form. She cast a glance at their feet. Papers were beginning to float as well, drawn up to the opening portal over their heads. All the lighter things that had been drawn in first were the first to rise to the pull. Even the baby hairs on Jade's head were beginning to rise, as if by static. If the pull continued to increase, they might gain the height necessary to make their way back to the portal. They didn't have many other options. They were still at the mercy of the shadows.

Jade swung her blade as hard and as fast as she could at the shadow about to take another chunk out of Spike's shoulder. Finally, her strike landed, the creature making a satisfying screech as it shrunk away and turned to liquid, along with the one that Spike had just kicked. As it was, she still felt claws sink cut across her calves. She stumbled unsteadily, the volumes moving under her feet as her legs weakened. Unbalanced, she pitched forward, surprised when she slammed against something hard, the smooth leather feel of Spike's jacket. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, and she could feel his arm wrapped around the small of her back, keeping her upright. "Not over yet," He told her gruffly. She felt something sticky on her cheek, sticking to her as she pulled her head away enough to look up at Spike. More of his blood. There were so many of them, slowly ripping the two to pieces. But she could handle that. Slow was good. Slow could buy them time. And they just needed a little more.

Her legs were shaking, blood soaking into her jeans. More objects were rising around them, gradually heavier. Just a little more and they could jump their way out of here. That is, if she still could. She thought to her legs, they'd impede her ability to leap up to the portal. The shadows could cripple them before they had enough pull to sail their way up to the tear. Spike had relaxed his grip enough to let her stand on his own, although she still clung to his arm, distributing the weight to keep some of it off her legs. The next strike, Jade beat off one of the creatures that went for Spike's own legs, but another clawed its way up his back, causing the taller man to curse out, "Bloody hell," as he staggered. She reached out, touching a hand to his chest—and even in the danger, couldn't fail to recognize the feel of his muscles underneath her hand—to brace him. They were holding each other up at this point. Spike had been flayed more than she had, streaks of blood all over him, but at least his legs were intact. Jade had another cut on the back of her bare neck now, running underneath one ear to the opposite side of her neck. Some of her hair had been caught in the slice, a loose, long lock of her brown hair floating up into the sky. The books beneath their feet began to shake, compelled by the portal's pull.

"Soon, Slayer." Spike told her. At some point, his vampire face had come out, the ridges prominent on his forehead, eyebrows gone, though the scar remained. His eyes, their normal sky blue were a vehement yellow, eyes dilated as he glanced at the bright portal over their head. "Can you make the jump?" He asked her, contemplative, concern in his predator eyes. Jade nodded. She wouldn't be the weak link.

"I'll make it."

More black ooze sprayed the books, gurgling on the surface of the tomes as the books were lifted into the air, dangling around Jade and Spike as yet another shadow strike fell upon them. Spike grunted as his throat was cut, exclaiming an angry "Ow!" as he applied pressure to his larynx. At least the cuts were long, rather than deep, and such a mortal wound wouldn't kill the vampire. But their time was up. With a hoarse voice, Spike turned to her. "Time to jump, Bloody Mary." As the monsters turned back for another onslaught, Spike gathered his strength and jumped, his flapping around him. Jade felt her legs protest each and every movement, and with her remaining strength, she forced herself upwards. She shot up. Spike's leap had more power behind it, but Jade was lighter, propelled further by the tear's pull. The shadows weren't finished, roaring with anger at their prey escaping, they entered the light, the wispy clouds shooting up towards the Slayer and the Vampire. Jade's ascent had slowed, but not stopped, as her leap had done only part of the job, the rest of the way she was being pulled by the portal, left helpless to it. They were getting nearer and nearer to the portal, but so were the monsters. She glanced up to see Spike looking back down at her, his pale skin slick with blood. His duster jacket was rising quicker than his body, lifting above him like a cape. He was closer than she was, but rising slower. The pull of the portal was only increasing, but would it be enough. Fast enough?

And then she felt the wind rush by her, faster than before. She was rising quicker, so was Spike. They were so close now. The creatures circled them to come closer and closer. Jade gripped her machete tightly, but the truth was, Spike and her were sitting ducks, completely at the mercy of the portal's pull. A shadow reached Spike before he reached the portal, and Jade's eyes flew open in helpless horror, waiting for it to exercise a new shape, pull him down before he reached his target. But it only sliced across his leg, as it had done with Jade's, unable to kill the vampire as he was sucked into the portal. Jade was only a few seconds behind him, but it seemed like an eternity as she was pulled up, her fingers outstretched.

"You shall not escape us," The voice roared, for the first time in long minutes, but Jade ignored it. She _was_ going to escape. She only needed another second. Her fingers grazed the portal, which had no texture, no feel, just the wind rushing past her ears. She glanced down to see the shadows swathing her, crying out in pain as it sunk its claws into her ankle, threatening to pull her back down. It wouldn't. With a final, upwards heave, she was swallowed into the portal and sucked through the transit. Bouncing around, being pulled in a million directions, the journey seemed no longer or shorter than the last, the sense of time devoid to her before suddenly, she was being flung out with a rapid speed, crashing through debris and books that were somehow familiar to her. She looked up. Relief flooded her as she recognized it. Doc's house. They were back. They had gotten out.

Her elation was dampened for a moment as she looked down at her leg, expecting to see that shadow creature still digging in, but it was gone, nothing but the cuts it had left. Oh thank God, they had made it. Right? Her head jerked up again, looking for the white-haired vampire. She had a moment of panic, and then there he was, covered in papers and wood splinters, pulling himself out of the debris. His black shirt had all manner of tears in it now, the slits revealing Spike's pale skin and the blood he was covered in. They were both covered in it. That had been one hell of a slow death execution. Far from quick, they would have a had a pained and slow end, bleeding to death. Spike towered above her, his face back to human form. With a triumphant smirk, he extended a large, blood covered hand towards her.

"See?" He smiled. "Nothing to worry about it."

Jade laughed at the absurdity of the comment, accepting his hand. He pulled her to her feet, a gentle, slow yank, which she was grateful for as her legs throbbed, reminding her of how badly they had been gored. She was lucky she had Slayer healing. If an ordinary human had sustained this much damage, they'd have to be hospitalized. Jade had no desire to visit Haven's clinic. With rest, she'd be perfectly healed in a couple of days. None of her organs had been pierced, it was the loss of blood more than anything. And the pain. "We got lucky. Really lucky." She added in a quieter tone.

His eyes were half-lidded as he looked at her, eyes scanning her wounds. She was sure she looked like a mess. Her hair was damp with sweat, blood coating her skin, hers as well as Spike's. Yet Spike, he somehow still seemed to look handsome, the cuts and scratches only serving to make him more attractive. Stoic, as if he had come from the midst of battle.

"Likely that Doc just wanted to slow us down. Worked, though." Bitterness entered Spike's tone. Now that they no longer had to focus on survival, his irritation that the demon had escaped was evident.

"We might be able to find him again." Jade said, in an attempt to reassure him. Doc stirred feelings in him, stronger than just resentment or loathing. Spike _hated_ him, due to the promise Doc had made him break. Whatever it was, Spike was vehement about it, passionate. And despite like feeling like Jesus at his crucifixion, whipped and cut all to hell, she was still wanting to help. Because, well. It was Spike. She was probably naïve, but she felt a bond. They had fought as comrades, as friends. He held at least a professional concern for her. If only Jade's feelings were so detached. She hadn't felt so strongly for someone in a while. Since Bennett. Bennett had been her best friend. She had used the two pieces of one whole so often, and it had been true. He had always been whatever she wasn't, whatever she needed. Without him, Jade didn't really feel anything at all. And now there was Spike, and she was feeling again. Loyalty. Irritation at times. Excitement at others. Perhaps this was what she needed. And it didn't have to end so soon. She'd help him find Doc if that's what he wanted. Besides, now she had a need for revenge herself.

"Eh. Probably have to call up the Witch again," Spike shrugged his shoulders, speaking of Willow. "See if she can find the little bastard again. Bloody wanker got all the time in the world to get away from us."

"Yeah. Unless he thought we weren't coming back. Then he might not have gone far. Besides. I think I know who we can see for a locator spell that's a bit closer to home."

His eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"I'll take you to her. But first." She gestured at their bloodied clothes. "A shower might be nice."

The closest house had been her boss'. There wasn't much left of nighttime—they were lucky to had had any, really. Who knew how long they had been in that dimension? Jade had lost her phone. Spike was looking down at his own, looking through his messages, remarking that he had a good dozen voicemails to listen to, which he did while they walked. They walked quickly. Eddie's house was just in the next neighborhood over. Jade's apartment was a bit too far away without wheels, and Spike didn't think his apartment would still be available since he had been gone for two months. It worked out well enough. Eddie's shift was in the morning, so likely he would be at home by now, and since she had no phone, Jade would be able to tell him that she might be busy for the next little while. Until they found Doc. They reached Eddie's house quickly enough, to which Jade muttered a "Thank God," under her breath, feeling weak and dizzy, her legs crying out at every step. Spike took his wounds more graciously, but she could tell the vampire wasn't immune to his injuries either.

She knocked on the door with a bloodied hand. Spike was still listening to his voicemails, looking a little bored, and rolling his eyes every so often and shaking his head. Her lips parted to say something when she heard the door swing open. She turned back to see Eddie. He was pale as ever, his ginger hair mussed, wearing a long sleep shirt that had Call Of Duty 3 on it, dressed in slightly grubby checkered sweatpants. But it was his expression that made her take note, his green eyes stretched wide, jaw dropped. She realised how she must look, then, her and Spike, covered in blood. And Spike, on his own, managed to look intimidating enough, in his all-black venture, white blonde spiky hair and general bad boy platitudes.

"Hi," Jade spoke, apologetic, while Eddie continued to gape at her. "We got into a bit of trouble." She added, feeling a bit awkward. Eddie was remarkably laid back, normally. He wasn't overly demanding, or anxious, not normally. He took things in stride, calm and collected, despite the fact that he lived in a demon-infested town. But he probably thought it was his punishment, that he belonged her, and had made do. But he was genuinely a good person, and she hadn't thought he'd disagree much to them showing up at his door. But there he was, his shock giving way to irritation.

"Jade." Eddie spoke after a second, as if he couldn't quite believe it. He frowned, concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the blood on her cheek, her neck, well, all over, really. But he still hadn't budged from his doorway. "What the hell?" He exclaimed, sounding seriously affronted. Jade's cheeks blushed.

"Got into a fight. We're okay, really. I just thought we could clean up here. If that's possible." She was stuttering a bit, taken aback by Eddie's strange behavior. His eyes narrowed a bit.

"What is the one thing I asked before you left?" He demanded, his eyes flickering between Jade and Spike, who still hovered in the background, on his phone.

"No radio silence." Jade remembered promptly. "And I know that. But it's only been…" Damn, she still wasn't sure how long they had been trapped in that portal. A few hours, a day? She glanced at Spike, who had snapped his phone shut and stepped up closer to Jade, his shoulder brushing hers.

"A week," The vampire supplied.

"Yeah. A w— A _what?_ " Jade snapped her head in the direction of Spike, her neck wound crying out in resistance. Spike smirked at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just listened to the last voicemail from Willow," He explained helpfully, grinning like a schoolboy who had pulled off a prank. "It's been a week."

Jade's mouth dropped open. "Oh. Oh Christ." So that's what Eddie was so pissed about. Right after she'd assured him she'd at least give her poor boss some warning, she had disappeared off the face of the Earth. She turned back to Eddie, who was waiting, impatiently, his eyes narrowed distrustfully at Spike, as if he was the reason Jade had vanished. Well, he was mostly right on the front, but it was a bit more complicated than that. "We ran into a powerful demon," Jade explained to Eddie, negating the fact that it had been a demon they had been looking for. "He sent us into a hell dimension. We just got out." She gestured with her arms, the bloodied limbs. Eddie looked from Spike to her, then his expression softened a bit.

"You look like hell." He acknowledged.

"Hoped we could have a shower. Change of clothes if you got any. If you're comfortable." Jade blurted after. It had usually been easy enough to talk to Eddie, the closest thing to normal in Haven, but now she was uncertain, as if she had crossed the line. They weren't exactly buddies, after all. She just worked for him. Sure, he had always been respectful and understanding, but perhaps she was expecting too much. But then the redhead seemed to relax.

"Yeah, of course." He opened the door wider and stepped back to allow them in. Jade followed easily, but Spike stopped at the doorway, going no further. He rose his pointer finger upwards, clearing his throat. "Ahem, if you don't mind." He looked to Eddie, who glanced back at Jade.

Jade smiled apologetically—she seemed to be feeling quite a lot of bad in the last couple of minutes. "He's a vampire."

Eddie sighed, but he was no stranger to the bloodsucking inhabitants of Haven. In fact, he sold blood and booze to a large lot of them. "Come in," He spoke to Spike, who gave him a triumphant smirk and stepped easily into the house.

The hallway led into the living room, which was attached to an open kitchen. Jade kept standing, not wanting to get blood on anything.

"Can I get you anything? Food. Water?" Eddie asked, falling back into the host persona, albeit a bit awkwardly, keeping his light green eyes on the bloodied vampires.

"Got any blood?" Spike asked easily, not noticing or not caring about Eddie's uncomfortableness. The slim man nodded.

"I do, actually. Keep my leftover stock in the basement. Has some vodka mixed in, though."

Spike grinned, showing his teeth. "No worries, mate. That'll definitely do." Eddie nodded and disappeared into the cellar. "Interesting bloke." He commented to Jade after the slimmer man had stepped out of view. "Seemed a bit cross with you."

"Well, he is my boss. I'm lucky if I'm not fired." Jade replied honestly. Her whole body ached. She began to peel off her jacket, letting out a gasp as she did so. Some of the blood had dried, and the coat was taking it with it. It hurt, badly, and she clenched her hands into little fists, using Eddie's couch as support. Oh God, that hurt. The combined sting of all her lacerations, all the aches of falling, getting hit by Doc, the general crashing, smashing and bashing of the day—or apparent _week_ —had really taken a toll. And it only felt like a few hours. Jade bunched her hair in her hands, tangled, sweaty and dried with blood. What a mess. She should have cut it long ago, having it hang to her belly button was more work than it was worth. She bit back another quiet hiss as she attempted again to pry the coat from her skin when she was surprised to feel another pair of hands aiding her own. Spike had come in from behind, touching his own fingers to the collar of her jacket.

"Let me, Slayer. It's not a band-aid. If you rip your coat off it's going to bloody hurt."

Jade succumbed to his assistance, letting her arms fall to her side. She felt a bit pathetic. Spike had taken the same beating, but he was a heck of a lot better hiding his pain than she was, And better at working through it. Sure, he was a Vampire, and what she could guess from his lifestyle, used to giving and taking a beating, but so had she. She knew accepting help wasn't a weakness, but it would help a little if Spike needed the same assistance. Then she reminded herself that he had let her bandage earlier, letting her silly self-conscious embarrassment slide. They were allies, they helped each other. No need to act invincible if she didn't need to. Instead, she focused on relaxing. She felt his cold fingers brush the back of her neck and she flinched.

"Sorry," Spike muttered, thinking that he had touched a wound.

"No, not that. Sensitive neck," Jade explained, though she flushed a little. It was true. Her neck was quite sensitive to touch, sending shivers down her body when someone but her touched her. Maybe it was a Slayer thing, the protective neck feeling. No vampires allowed here, thank you.

"That so?" Spike remarked, sounding amused. She could hear his lips stretch into a smirk as he said it. Slayer instinct flared up, reminding her that there was a predator behind her, that she was vulnerable, despite her mind knowing the contrary. Her stomach clenched at the contact, but he had pulled the top of her jacket off of her slim shoulders, her neck now safe. His hand tugged at one of her sleeves. Her breath trembled a little as it pulled at the long gash on her arm, and she could feel Spike hesitate in response, then pulled the sleeve the rest of the way. She pulled her arm free with some relief. The rest of it was easier, Spike tugged on her other sleeve and her jacket fell easily off, dropping to the floor. She grit her teeth, glad that it was over. Instead of the agonizing flares of pain, it had dropped back to a manageable throbbing. With a breath of relief, she turned to Spike, who had thankfully taken a step back. When he was closer, she found him harder to deal with, harder to think clearly. "Thank you," She said and meant it. He was right about the band-aid pulling thing being a bad idea. This might have prolonged the pain, but it didn't worsen the cuts.

"Any time, Slayer." He tongued his teeth, a devilish glint in his blue eyes.

Heart beating a bit quickly—although this could be easily attributed to her pain levels, she stepped to put more distance, assigning herself a task. She winced as she limped over to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water from the tap. "You said you had phonecalls from Willow. Anything important?" She asked after she had taken a heady gulp. She had been more thirsty than she realised. And hungry—they had wandered for hours in that dimension.

"Yeah. It can wait." Spike answered, a bit irritating in his mystery. Jade was curious, but she shrugged it off. She could wait, then. They heard the scuffle of steps as Eddie came back into view, holding a whole case of his much sought-after vodka-blood mix. It was called Bloodka. Jade had rolled her eyes at the brand name when she had first seen it, but if the vamps bought it, they bought it. Eddie handed the case to Spike who grinned wickedly, dropping it down on the table. He pulled one out immediately, breaking off the cap and raising it to his lips, drinking it quite quickly. Jade's stomach turned a little at the thick liquid. She didn't get squeamish around seeing blood, but she had always hated the taste and the smell. Bloody noses were _not_ her favorite pastime.

Eddie turned to Jade, his face a picture of concern. Jade was only wearing her tanktop over her torso now, and the various slits and lack of skin coverage to begin with did nothing to hide the cuts all over her body. Spike fared no better, even worse, really, but it was more obvious on her. And well, Eddie cared a little bit more about the Slayer than the odd white-haired vampire, who was guzzling down his vodka laced blood with undeniable enthusiasm. "You need some first aid," Eddie said, frowning with worry. Jade shook her head.

"I'll heal. But can I use your shower? Get some of the blood off of me?"

Eddie nodded. Ignoring Spike's satisfied burp, she followed the lean man through the room, to a small bathroom; still larger than hers at home, however, and had a tub instead of just a shower in the corner.

"The shower's on low water pressure already. I'll get you some non-ripped clothes to wear, and you can use those towels." The red-headed man gestured.

"Thanks. Oh, and Eddie?" She added as the man turned to leave. "I really am grateful. And sorry. I had no intention of going off the radar again. Especially after you asked me not to."

"You gave me a hell of a fright, Jade. After that whole Slayer business. I thought Sheriff Hazim might have run you out of town. Or some angry vamps got you. I can see that's not the case," He added, a bit uncomfortably. Although Eddie knew Jade roomed with a Mok'tagar Demon, she had never been overly friendly with too many demons, especially vampires. Until now. "Look," he said with a sigh. "I'm just glad you're alright. Just… try to be careful, alright? I have a feeling that this was a bit of a close call."

Jade nodded. He wasn't wrong. It had been a close call. They had almost died, Spike and her, without even getting the bad guy. A complete waste, really. Except it didn't really feel like it.


	28. Chapter 27

**27**

And there began the awkward silence. Jade's boss had left some clothes in the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He had come back into the living room, where Spike had settled on the couch, despite the fact he was probably leaving blood stains on it. Oh well. It could be wiped off, it was a leather material after all. He didn't care about those little considerate things. Just because he had his soul back didn't make him a saint. Not by a long shot. He guzzled down another gulp of aptly named 'Bloodka', the glass clinking as he stuck it back in the rapidly emptying case. Spike grabbed another bottle. Why not? It was free, and he was low on blood. Might as well drink it all. And though he did notice the vodka addition, it wasn't overly affective on his vampire physiology. That, and it wouldn't last very long. But it was a nice buzz. Hid the pain a bit, from his half-flayed body. Yet the remaining part still managed to stay sexy. He was just gifted like that. It seemed like he spent a far bit of his time covered in blood so might as well look good doing it.

He could hear the water turn on, the spray start. But there were lots of sounds now, like cars driving by, various beeps, tocking of the clock. It was nice to have noises again, instead of the infernal quietness of the demon dimension. He had heard everything so clearly, each beat of Jade's heart was like a drum. A large one. Even now he could hear her, a light hum to herself that occasionally shifted to words. He chuckled to himself. The woman could hold no tune at all, though her high-pitched singing voice was nice enough on its own. A difference from her normal lower tone. Her normal voice wasn't manly by any means, but it was no shrill, girly sound. Like Buffy's, or Dawn. Dawn, mostly. That girl could shriek like a banshee if she wanted to. Or woman. He supposed she was a woman now. He had seen her since his supposed demise, but it had been a while again. Little bit had moved on, going to University in Canada, making her big old sister proud. But from what he heard she was just as involved as ever with the Slayer Organization, and with Xander, the one-eyed wanker. But she had moved on, grown up. Good for her. He had a soft spot for the younger Summers sister. And let's be honest, the older one too. But that was because he was in love with her. Still. No matter how far he got away from the blonde Slayer. Even in the demon dimension, he had, for a moment, thought they were honestly going to die. And all he could think of was Buffy. That he'd never see her again. That he'd never get the closure, never know if what they had was real, if they could ever build a life from it.

He took another swig from his drink. Damn that was depressing. Alcohol working its charms already. The last thing he wanted to think about was Buffy right now, although Willow's voicemails made him think. He had to return, soon. He was needed again, and this was serious enough to warrant his attention. But he wasn't going alone this time, no. He glanced in the direction of the shower. He'd bring Jade with her this time. It was safer, where he could keep an eye on her. They worked well enough together, after all. So he'd offer the opportunity to tag along for a while, if she wanted. They'd have to go soon. He thought on what she said about knowing someone who could find Doc. He had little hopes in that regard, but if there was any way to track down that little bastard on their way to San Francisco, he'd damn well take it. The debts kept piling up. There was only so many times that black-eyed bastard would escape from him and stab him in the back in the process. And that had been the last.

The red-headed man paused as he stepped into the middle of the room, looking at Spike casually drinking his blood. In silence, he continued on over to the fridge, pulling out something in a cardboard bag. From the smell, Spike could tell it was garlic bread. The man took out a few pieces, putting it on a plate and sticking it in the microwave. He entered the time without hitting start. As he turned away, he noticed Spike watching him. "I figured you guys might be hungry. Well. You're eating. Jade likes garlic bread."

Spike's eyebrow raised. "Does she now?" He commented with some amusement, taking another gulp of blood. His stomach was definitely starting to feel better now that it had something in it. And this stuff wasn't too bad. Did the trick just fine. Jade's boss—Eddie, was looking slightly sheepish, putting the rest of his bread away. So the little man had a crush, did he? Fancy himself the expert on all things Jade. It was bloody funny. Humans amused him sometimes with their little crushes. Well, that is it had amused him a hell of a lot more until he had experienced unrequited love himself. Except it _wasn't_ unrequited love. Buffy felt something for him, Spike knew that. It was just unadmitted love, really. Not enough love. Not-the-right-time-for-it love. Bloody frustrating, it was. And there was lanky Mr. Boss, thinking if he filled his little apartment with savory garlic smells little Jade might leap into his arms. As if. Spike scoffed at the thought. And how defensive that little shmuck had been. Bet he wouldn't have been so affronted if Jade had shown up alone. No, he could leap into hero mode then, but since that role was already filled, by yours truly Spike, Mister Ed had to settle for the helpful friend. Damn right. He didn't know why the thought gave him such satisfaction, but it did.

Ed took a beer out of the fridge, busting off the cap and taking a swig himself. Spike had seen Ed a couple times before, utilizing his liquor store when the vampire had been living in Haven. The man catered to the strange variety of Haven, having liquors for the demonic community as well as the humans. Which was probably the reason his business did so well; humans were a rarer commodity in this town. Particularly humans that didn't have anything peculiar about themselves. Spike observed the man with his acute senses. Sallow, pale. Not a vampire, just his ginger-haired physique. A beard on his chin and clear looking eyes. No tells on his appearance anyway, but as Spike tasted the air he could detect a distinct canine scent. Yet there were no dogs in the house, the odor was coming from him. Spike narrowed his eyes in triumph. That was the man's secret. He was a werewolf. Spike took another swig from his drink. Nothing was normal in this town. He bet Special Ed had a cell in that little basement of his, along with specially marked 'Bloodka'. Didn't seem like the kind of bloke to run around loose when he was in dog form. Huh. He wondered if Jade knew. Eddie was insinuating that he knew Jade well enough to claim what kind of food she liked to eat, but that could just be an overbearing stalker thing. Who knew.

"Jade takes some special company," Eddie finally spoke, unable to bristle back that curiosity Spike knew had been eating him. Spike smiled to himself. Okay, he had a soul, didn't make him any less of an asshole. He still loved pulling people's legs and speaking his mind without holding back. "But I can't say she's ever been friends with a vampire before."

"It's amazing what you just don't know about people, am I right?" Spike answered insolently, insinuating Ed wasn't as all-knowing as the red-headed man liked to think. Ed flushed a little. "I'm one of a kind." If you'd forget about Angel and bloody well should, since he and Spike were _nothing_ alike. Not. One. Bit. They were complete bloody opposites. Just because they both happened to have a soul. Nothing similar to them at all. Except the fact they were both drawn to a very jaunty blonde. That was it. "Otherwise I'm sure those Slayer instincts of hers would have overwhelmed her by now."

Eddie tensed. "Slayer?" He asked, a bit uncomfortably. Spike's face broke into a full grin seeing the uncertainty on his face.

"She not tell you?" Spike replied, a picture of innocence.

"No. I figured… something. It doesn't matter," Eddie tried to play it casual, but Spike could tell that it bothered him. The fact that Jade was a Slayer or didn't spill it herself, Spike didn't know. Either way, it was humorous to Spike.

"Right you are, chap. Sure she just figured you knew."

"Slayer or not, she hasn't been big into the life. Until you showed up. This demon that sent you into the dimension, he just find you?"

Spike's lip twitched. "Well. After we found him. I had a bit of a problem with him, though we could work through our differences together."

Eddie frowned, falling into that protective zone. A werewolf thing, maybe. Or just an annoying human trend. "And you brought Jade with you as what, a body guard?"

Spike smirked. "She's good muscle." He liked taunting the man. He'd been alive for three decades, and dead a lot longer than that, and never had he been able to make friends all that well. That'd be a bother for William Pratt, but for Souled and UnSouled Spike, he just reveled in it. He wasn't apologizing for who he was. Tolerate him or not, he didn't need ass-kissing.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something else, but he watched Spike's head swerve towards the bathroom, where the water had been shut off for a time and now footsteps indicated movement. Opening the door, Jade stepped into view. Her long brown hair was nearly black, damp and falling down to her navel. He hadn't realised how long her hair was, with her habit to sweep it up into a ponytail or a bun. She was dressed in a long sleeved shirt, a dark gray AC/DC shirt that was obviously Eddie's from how long it hung on her slim, shorter frame. The werewolf was over six feet. Underneath she wore loose light gray sweats that she had rolled up to her ankles. More covered now, the cuts over her body weren't as visible, most of them anyway. Spike could still smell the iron, the couple of her lacerations that bled more than the others, the tang of her blood in the air. Looking at her, the shower seemed to have animated her. Her cheeks were a flush red from the warmth, lips the same. Eyes were a shining blue and the darkness of her hair made her skin seem all the more pale. Her colors in this chance reminded Spike of Drusilla. Oh Drusilla. Spike hadn't seen his sire in a lengthy time, but far as he knew she still lived. Well, sort of. He spared a thought for her, as he always did, hoping that she was cared for and not lonely. He had loved her for over a century until he had come so very close to killing her, for Buffy. And that relationship hadn't ended up any better. Women. Over a century and a half of living and he was no closer to understanding them. In Jade's case, she seemed less complicated than most. She spoke what she meant, and wasn't prone to mood swings. At least so far. She was a sturdy companion, and that was so simplistic it was a relief. He didn't want anything complicated. Of that, he had plenty. He had Buffy. The very definition of complication. And indecision, and bloody obscurity.

Spike was dimly aware of Eddie starting the microwave after he heard a shrill beep. Jade smiled, looking gladdened to be cleaner. The streak of blood on her cheek that had come from Spike's blood had been wiped clean. He could still see her limp as she walked as steadily as she could across the floor, reaching one of the couches and leaning against it with relief. A smile lit her face. "Is that garlic bread?" She asked, a tad eagerly. Spike rolled his eyes at the answering satisfaction on Eddie's face. Jade glanced to Spike, taking in his empty bottles as well as the one in his hand.

"Are you full?"

"Close to," Spike nodded. It wasn't the worst blood he ever had, even if this was the less desired animal version. No wonder Ed had extra in his basement. Any self-respecting vampire wanted human blood if they had to deign to drink it from a bottle.

"You can have a shower now," Jade offered. "We have time." She nodded to the window, where just through the curtains, the rays of early sunset could be seen. They hadn't reached Spike yet, but he had noticed them. He shrugged. Might as well. He was a bit of a mess. Was no use walking around covered in blood. Although he was still from the time where he preferred soaking in a tub, or didn't care overly much, he nodded. Whoever it was that Jade wanted to see for the spell would have to wait until night time. He couldn't exactly go walking out for it. His bike was still where he left it in Haven, but if memory served, Jade too rode a motorcycle and that wouldn't protect him much. So waiting would have to do. He downed the rest of his drink, declining Eddie's offer of clothes. He'd do just fine with his. They hadn't been as ripped to pieces as Jade's had. Besides, he'd done the whole wear someone else's clothes thing. Last time he'd been stuck in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Not. Again. He had barely stripped when he heard Jade and Eddie's voices through the door. One handy thing about being a vampire—eavesdropping. Noting the long gashes on his otherwise muscular body, he glanced at the steam-filled mirror. Nothing, as usual. Just a blank reflection. Entering the shower, he ignored the sound of the water falling to listen to Jade and her boss.

"Thanks for the food, Eddie."

"I figured you might be hungry. You were stuck in there for a week?"

"No. Just a couple hours. Quite a few hours, really. Sorry for not showing up to work."

"It's alright. I got someone to cover."

There were a few moments of silence. The water pouring down into the drain was like red wine. Spike grunted a bit at the water pelting his wounds, reminding him just how much of him had been sliced up. At least he'd heal well enough. He had started already. Perks of a vampire. If it didn't cut his head off, put a wooden stake in his heart or set him on fire, he'd live. A day, maybe two, and he'd be right as rain. The conversation had picked up again, and Spike listened. He didn't have anything better to do, so he scoffed and rolled his eyes at basically anything Eddie was saying. The guy was obvious. Not that Spike practiced too much in subtlety. He was all heart on his sleeve, he was. Never kept Dru guessing. Wasn't his thing. Got her anything she had ever wanted, all the birds to her little heart's content.

Still less pathetic than garlic bread.

"Should I be afraid now that I've invited a vampire into my home?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "No. You have nothing to worry about. He's harmless."

Bitch. That hurt his remnant big bad feelings. So what if she was trying to convince her boss that Spike wasn't going to come back and snap his head at night. Well he certainly had reason to now. She needed to take that back. He wasn't harmless. Maybe to the good guys, alright, but damn. Don't generalize. Generalizing was bollocks.

"What about this demon who sent you away? He something to worry about?"

"Not if we get him. Do me a favor, though. You see a short old man with black eyes, keep your distance."

"If you get him? So you're going to try again?"

"Yeah. I said I'd help Spike, and job's not done."

Spike could hear Eddie's sigh, and he smirked a little to himself, muttering triumphantly. "That's right, Wolfboy. Vampire with a vengeance kick rates higher than stocking bottles of booze." Or whatever it was that Jade did. He hadn't asked. He couldn't imagine what else she did for a man who owned a liquor store. Sampling maybe. And if that was a job, he damn well wanted it.

"Are you coming back to work?"

"I don't know. I didn't mean to be away for a week, really. And I don't know where the demon went. I'm hoping not to the ends of the Earth…"

"But you'll see it through."

"Yeah. Sorry. Unreliable employee of the year."

"I get it. It's not exactly the town for steadiness. It'll be alright. When you come back, might be able to work something out still."

"Thank you. Can you do something else for me?" She continued to silence, so Spike assumed that Eddie had nodded. Done with his shower, he stepped out, naked and dripping onto the bathmat, drying his white hair as he continued to listen. "Can you keep an eye out on the orphanage?"

Ed hesitated, but even Spike could guess he was probably going to jump in with an eager 'Anything for you'. So the vampire was a bit confused when Eddy stuttered a bit, uncertainly. "I check in from time to time."

"No, you avoid it. You avoid him. Henry deserves to know who you are, you shouldn't keep it from him." There was something odd in her tone, a strange inflection that didn't sound normal. Spike had stepped through the bathroom door at this point, and Eddie was looking pale—even more than the skinny man had so before, his eyes wide as he stared at Jade. She was frowning, turned away from him then, so that Spike could see her face. She was frowning, fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache, looking a bit confused and embarrassed. "Sorry. Don't know what I'm talking about. Overtired, I think." Jade shook her head imperceptibly as if to shake it away.

"Suppose you have a reason to be," Spike said as if to announce his presence. Jade glanced over at him, a bit relieved, while Eddie took the time to compose himself.

"I need to open the store," Eddie spoke in the seconds of quiet, glancing at the clock and then back down at Jade. He still looked a bit startled, shooting another alarmed glance at Jade, who finished her garlic bread, unaware of the werewolf's discomfort. "If you need to rest, feel free to stay here for as long as you need."

"Thank you," Jade spoke vehemently. She was tired, Spike could see it. And hell, so was he. It might not have been a week that they were away, but it had been at least half a day in endless walking, fighting. Not to mention he lost half of his blood like he had been a squeezed sponge. He couldn't go anywhere in the daylight anyway.

Eddie set up the guest room for Jade; Spike got the couch. He didn't give a damn. Didn't need the bloke's bed, he was a hell of a lot more comfortable out in the dining room. Spike covered himself with blankets and snuggled into the couch. Eddie had given him the remote, so damn well if the vampire didn't take advantage of a heck lot more channels than he would have had at his old place. And he moved around far too much with Buffy, from a hotel to an old castle to someone's basement, depending on where she needed to be. No reliable telly. It was a shame. There were a lot of shames surrounding his time with Buffy. She had only let him kiss her once, _once_ since dying at the Hellmouth. And before that? When he didn't have a soul. But the last time he had kissed her, after they had averted yet another crisis, the blonde had savored it—savored the damn thing, reacting and all, before stopping, shaking her head with a mumbled, "Not now," and bloody moved on. It was confusing as hell. His time after leaving Haven hadn't gotten any better. But now she—though Willow had been the one to call him, wanted him back. For another crisis that was all momentous and crucial, and after that was done it'd be another, "Well thanks for helping me with that little task, Spike. Good to have you around." No thank you. Although Spike knew sooner or later—sooner, honestly—he'd be pulled back by that damn supercilious Buffy. He always went back.

It was on that train of thought he eventually fell asleep, to an episode of That Seventy's Show—it was a rerun anyway. He slept soundly enough, until the sounds of feet pattering around and water boiling woke him up. He blinked, shaking away the sleep. The telly had changed to an rerun of some Star Trek show—it was hard to tell which was which, and he jerked up to a sitting position to see Jade nursing a cup of tea. She looked better, less tired and less pale, although the certain sallowness of her normal complexion she couldn't quite hide.

"I was about to wake you," She said to him with a light smile.

"Yeah, well your clomping elephant steps got that done," Spike complained. Instead of looking offended, Jade's lip twitched into a smirk, lean shoulders shrugging.

"It's almost sunset."

"Is that so?" Surprised, he looked to the window. They had been mostly shuttered, except for the non-lethal rays that hadn't gone far enough to reach him. It had certainly dwindled to a dusky, violet color instead of the bright yellow of death. He had slept right through the whole day. Not the first time, mind you, he was a vampire and all, but to do so so fitlessly, he must have been exhausted. He glanced down at his body. The cuts that spanned him had dulled to a less angry red, scabbed over and closed. It was down to a dull throb he could ignore. He glanced to Jade. The one most visible was the scratch from the back of her neck to the side of it. It looked angrier than his, but still better than it had been that morning. Supernatural healing. It was a plus. "No boss of the year here yet?"

"No. He said he'd be pulling a double shift today." She said the last bit with some guilt. Spike didn't share it. He hadn't made her come with him, and sure as hell didn't expect it would be for a week, but it was better this way. When he returned to San Francisco, he was bringing her along, so better off now if the werewolf toddled along with his business without her.

"Shame, that," he said with absolutely no shame at all.

Jade's eyes narrowed a centimeter. "He was kind to let us into his house and stay here while he left," She was apt to defend him. Spike shrugged as he shoved the blanket off of him. There were motivations for everything. No-one did good for no reason. Ed's was obvious.

"Out of the kindness in his heart, I reckon," Spike said sarcastically, rising to his full height. Jade frowned, but she didn't rise to his remark, letting it go. She wasn't the one for arguing—or for conflicts. He'd seen that. She'd rather let it go than make a big deal out of it. He wasn't sure if it was a relief or a bore. "Now, about that person who can do a locator spell on the Doc?"

"Right," Jade seemed relieved for the change of scenery. "I haven't met her, but she's another demon. Her name is Clarity. She has quite a few powers. One of them is finding people. Where they are. And where they're going. It might help."

Spike's eyebrow arched. He hadn't heard of this Clarity from his last stint in Haven. Or at least if he had, it hadn't been an important enough mention for him to remember. "I take it she doesn't do this for free."

Jade's cheeks flushed a light red as she shook her head. "No. She likes… she has a particular…uh."

"Spit it out, Slayer."

"A kiss. That's her price." Jade said, more sure. At Spike's eyebrow arch she quickly continued. "She likes the taste of a person's essence, I believe. She samples it through a kiss."

"What in the sodding hell? It's not a big old dementor's kiss, is it? Suck the soul out? Because if it is, that would be a bad idea. Trust me, I'm not nearly as 'harmless' without a soul."

Jade shook her head. "No, no soul sucking. It just makes the person a little weak. But it's no worse than losing your blood. You'll get it back."

"And you know this from experience, then?"

"No, but my roommate. The demon, remember? She's gone to her a couple times. Her kind, the Mok'Tagar, aren't too happy with their members living outside their dimension. So she goes to check where they are, that they aren't looking for her. She's fine."

"Right. The soulless broad that you live with. Must be a fine and utterly true cesspool of information, her."

Jade narrowed her eyes. "Don't throw her to the wolves. I don't trust her completely, but she likes to blab, and I think she was telling the truth."

"Yes. Soulless types are utterly truthful."

"And you've never done anything good, before you had your soul? It isn't everything."

She wasn't completely wrong. She _was_ wrong. There was no doubt about that. He wouldn't trust any others of his kind if he could get within a meter of them. Although, it was true. Motivation again. He thought of Harm. Broad didn't have a soul anywhere on her, but she had done a couple of good things. Before betraying the good guys that is, reverting to her normal nature. And what else had Jade said. Spike doing anything good? Well, no of course not. He was the big bad. What possible good had he done? There was that time with Acathla, where he had prevented the ending of the world, but that wasn't really a good thing. That was for damn selfish reasons. What possible good would there have been out of the end of the world. Happy meals. On legs. Good enough reason to keep Earth around. He tried thinking before Sunnydale. Good. The closest he could think of was when he found a woman, beaten half to death and sired her to save her life. But even _that_ hadn't been out of the goodness in his heart. In fact he had been having quite a snack out of her. She had been quite beautiful, that woman. He had been right ready to kill her, but something she had said had changed his mind and he had sired her. Which counted as saving a life or ending it? Bah. Scratch that one. There was his whole chip-chapter, which he would be more than happy to forget. But it was true, though it was mostly out of a twisted love for Buffy that he had done some good. Aha! For Joyce. After she had died, the little Nibblet Dawn had taken it quite hard. He'd gone and helped her, getting all cut up. Not even for Buffy's favor.

Damn, he'd just proven Jade's point, hadn't he? He didn't know quite why she was willing to stick up for the soulless. That was the exact opposite of her Slayer description. He figured it had something to do with her past, which she had barely talked on at all. Still, he'd think after that lesson she learned, dusting her undead boyfriend after killing five people that she saw there was no un-soul redemption. But she was adamant, staring back at him with defiant blue eyes. He sighed. He didn't see much choice. If he called Willow to do the spell herself, she'd just re-relay what Buffy had wanted. For Spike to get his ass back to San Francisco. And he wanted this one little last attempt at Doc first. So if he had to snog a 'essence-sucking' demon, he'd make do. But he was _not_ losing his soul again. He worked his ass off for this one.

"Fine, Slayer. We'll do it your way."


	29. Chapter 28

**28**

"For a backwater little town, there always seems to be some dive I've never heard of," Spike commented, glancing at the building. Squished between two other shops on the downtown street, it was almost inconsequential. By its appearance, Jade recognized it from Lyth's description. She'd thought of going here before, visiting Clarity herself. It would have been for the same reasons as Lyth utilized her. To see if there was anyone pursuing her still, and how far away. Hopefully leagues. She glanced at Spike, his impressive side profile as he scrutinized the outside. He didn't seem overly bothered, dropping his earlier skepticism. It really didn't take much to sway Spike. Especially if there was danger. The more the merrier. However, she was hoping there would be a strict lack of danger. To get something without strings attached would be a pleasant change. She tucked her hair back behind her ear. She had kept it out of a ponytail to attempt to hide a long gash mark which had swung around the curvature of her neck. The rest of her cuts were more easily hidden with the wearing of Eddie's loose sweater and her partially ripped jacket. It wasn't the place to look weak.

Week or not, she wasn't sure how upset the Vamps were that they had their nests dusted. She didn't want to find out. She just wanted to sleep for a while, to heal. But her sleep had been disturbed, each restless toss finding a way to present her with another reminder of pain. When she had finally dreamed, it was an unpleasant mixture of light and dark. Bennett, gleaming in the brightness, Spike lingering in the shadows. She had laid most of the day up awake thinking, trying to balance it all in her head.

Another thing that bothered her was what she had said to Eddie. She had mentioned Henry to him for no reason at all. Henry was another boy in the Orphanage, one of the 'normal' ones. She must have read his file once, but she couldn't remember what it contained. He hadn't really stood out to her for one reason or another. A small, skinny boy that was eleven years old, sparing with his words. Maybe she would ask Lisa about him later. She'd know him better than Jade did. But as much as she racked her mind, she didn't know why she had brought him up. She barely knew him. And Eddie's face had crumbled with shock, discomfort and guilt. It was worth looking into.

But not now.

She walked up to the door. There was no 'open' or 'closed' sign. In fact, she wasn't quite sure of the procedure, so she rapped her knuckles on the door, waited a few seconds and then pushed on it. It opened easily, not locked. With a glance at Spike, she took a breath and entered.

The first thing she noticed is that it was less a building than a jungle. Small, dark, with dark brown and green plants, and strange purple orbs that were stuck in the ceiling and functioned as lights. And though the building had seemed small and crammed on the outside, she and Spike were walking down a long hall, various vines and foliage swaying against their shoulders as they moved.

"If this is another dimension…" Spike muttered under his breath, and Jade smiled despite herself. True, she had had enough of that for one day, but her nerves were inexplicably jumbled, and his comment made her feel at ease somehow. At least she had the seasoned vampire at her back.

The lone hallway suddenly ceased, met by another wall that blocked further passage. Spike made a grunting sound like 'Now what?' Jade didn't know. What was it Lyth had said? She had mostly talked about how alive it all was and that she had offered to trim down the plant life a tad. Jade placed her fingers on the wall, which was swathed with leaves. She gasped as they parted, revealing a sea of small blinking eyes, staring at her. Unsure of what to do, she waved her hand in a harmless gesture, feeling lost and uncertain.

"We're here to see Clarity?" She hadn't meant to phrase it as a question, but she was feeling foolish, especially since she was explaining her intentions to eyeballs, and not something that could hear her, like a panel of ears. The eyes stared at her for another moment, and then one by one, they closed. There was a cracking as something began to move. Jade took a hasty step back, not realising how close Spike was standing behind her She knocked into him, which was not unlike bumping into a wall, rock hard and unmoving. He raised an eyebrow at her, calmer than she was.

"Little twitchy there, Slayer."

"Sorry. Never been here before. But if it _does_ start sucking us into somewhere, at least we'll be able to Tarzan our way out with these vines." She gestured to the lichen around them. Spike shook his head, rolling his eyes, then jutted his chin forward. She looked back. The passageway had opened. Inside, curtains of greenery. A low, husky female voice sounded.

"Come in."

The Slayer and the Vampire stepped into the revealed room. The vines inexplicably parted, revealing rather modern couches, and a standing woman. Jade blushed despite herself. She was nearly naked. Purple skinned but with the voluptuous curves of a woman, she had vines and leaves wrapped over her body instead of clothes. But not in a very covering sort of way. Her face was purple with a lighter shimmering violet, and mesmerizing silver irises offset by black sclera. Despite her coloring, she looked mostly human, though she had long fingers, that had thick black claws at the end of them, and a tail that swept from side to side behind her legs. She didn't have hair so much as horns, black and twisting, like the thorns of a rose. Yep, it matched Lyth's animated description.

"Clarity," Jade spoke, and the demon smiled back with remarkably white teeth.

"That's me. I must say, I've never seen you two around before. What delicious morsels you must be." She smiled at them, not dangerously nor kindly, reaching for a bowl set by one of her couches, pulling something moving from it and popping it into her lips. "Why do you come for Clarity today?"

"Looking for a Demon," Spike answered, matter-of-fact and not fazed by her in the least. Jade wasn't surprised. Spike had been part of the demon world much longer than Jade had even been alive. In fact, he probably found the demon more attractive than terrifying. "Named Doc. Heard tell you could help."

"I could," Clarity breathed. She stepped towards them. Jade forced herself to stay still under the demon's scrutinizing gaze. She had a feeling this powerful entity wasn't someone that could be intimidated. Even Lyth had spoken of her with respect, and Lyth was powerful on her own. Jade was going to play by the rules here. She held Clarity's odd gaze, but felt relieved when it passed to Spike instead. "Mmmm," The demon said with a smile, looking at him as if he were candy. Or whatever Demons considered a sweet treat. "You know the payment, yes?" She reached out with her long fingers towards Spike. The vampire let her stroke his face, getting from Jade that they had to obey—not fight their way out. Clarity traced her claws lightly along the curves of Spike's face, his defined cheekbones, sharp jaw. Jade felt a twinge of jealousy despite herself, and glanced away.

"You want a kiss," Spike spoke with a bit of a sigh in his voice. "Well, go on then."

"Not just any kiss," Clarity pouted, withdrawing from him. "Lets me taste into your inner being." She took a deep breath, rather noticeably breasts rising with her chest as her eyelids fluttered with something akin to pleasure. "Keep you in here," She touched a tantalizing finger to her temple. "But yes," She glanced between the two of them. "You are bursting with tastes. I will accept. And sample." Spike shrugged his shoulders and took a step forward, but Clarity stopped him with her fingers splayed to his chest.

"So eager." She chastised. "Or perhaps, not eager enough, am I right? No," She said, speaking more to herself than Jade and Spike, and turned her head sharply to Jade. "I've had enough of the dead today. Give us a taste, heroine. Let me see who you are."

Jade felt her cheeks flush slightly pink. Spike had just assumed she would pick him since Jade had first told him about the payment, and to be honest, that was as far as Jade had thought on it as well. She hadn't expected to be picked, not next to Spike. She knew who she would have chosen. It made her feel a bit uncomfortable, but she told herself she was being silly. It was a kiss. Despite the fact that it wasn't with a human, or a man. It was for Spike. Find the Doc. She took a step forward to the demon, who waited on her expectedly with half-lidded eyes, an odd sound coming from her throat that was akin to a purr.

"So nervous," Clarity laughed softly. "Is this sight not becoming to you, beauty? I can choose another, if it makes you more comfortable." With a blur, she changed then, to a man with a large chest, muscles rippling. An Adonis if there was one, thick golden hair and a strong jaw. He had eyes like the ocean, but Jade couldn't help but grimace. The image reverted back to Clarity, who laughed again. "Oh, dear, you didn't like?" She teased, stepping to Jade, circling around her far too close as she teased her prey. "Maybe something else a little familiar?" Her features changed again, this time to someone she recognized. Those defined cheeks, the smooth curves of his face, his taunting lips and dark eyebrows, and those piercing blue eyes. It was Spike. Jade felt her cheeks flush more, and she opened her mouth to rapidly discount, but a strong hand gripped her chin, stopping her from looking at the real Spike.

"Oh, so shy," Clarity crowed, Spike's voice, but it wasn't him. "Don't worry, beauty. He can't see the change. Or hear. Only you. Such a special, private moment. And don't say you don't want it," The hand left Jade's chin to touch her hair, pulling at the strands. "I can see your desire. Eyes so dilated, heart so beating. Now, let me feel it."

Taking one breath to steady herself, Jade acquiesced, pressing herself on her tiptoes to reach for and kiss Spike—Clarity. His lips massaged her own, hands bringing her nearer, wrapping around her, so warm so comforting. For a moment she let herself believe that it really was Spike, that he was the fire and the passion. She entwined her fingers around his neck, in his stiff platinum hair. She kissed him vehemently, but then found her rhythm ebbing, a terrible fatigue overtaking her. Still Clarity did not release her from the kiss, not until her legs buckle and she heard someone call her name. Clarity surrendered her, and free, Jade fell. She was barely aware of another voice in her ear, one taken with concern. She felt arms catching her, holding her on either side, supporting her. Her head rolled back, kept up by Spike's chest. Spike. He had caught her, the real Spike.

"What did you do to her?" Spike demanded, speaking through the fog in Jade's head. She saw Clarity had reverted back to her normal tone, stalking away and giggling. Her eyes were entirely black now, a long, satisfied smile on her lips.

"Oh, so so lovely. Mhmmm. So filling. Calm, little champion," She addressed Spike now, glee in her eyes. "That happens to all. Draining, but she will recover in full. And aren't I glad." She turned back towards Jade, who could barely focus on her purple form, kept upright by Spike.

"So much taste, and you aren't even done yet. Still cooking. Still missing that piece. Mhmmm," She let out a satisfied sigh, touching her long nails to her horns.

"Satisfied, then?" Spike asked, where Jade was still trying to find words. Her very mouth felt dry, body felt floppy and not like her own. "Where's the Doc?"

"Wait, wait." Clarity held up a long finger. "Don't you want to know something interesting?" Her black eyes focused on Jade. "I tasted an essence similar to yours just a couple days ago. Do you know who they were looking for?" She giggled. "You, my little beauty. Now I can feel your little heart beating; we're connected, you see. Who would you rather find. The one looking for you, or the Doc?"

"Why's there have to be a choice?" Spike asked, puzzled, while Jade's heart was indeed beating rapidly. An essence close to hers. To her, there was only one option, only one person who could be looking for her. Anxiety sunk deep into her gut, and the urge to flee. "You find a person for a kiss, right? I'm right here. Give me a quick snog and find them both, then."

Clarity pouted, displeased. "That's not how it works," she wrinkled her nose. "My lips, my rules. You don't come in here, all demanding." She waggled an accusatory finger. "I say one. My rules, my choice." She turned the finger to Jade. "Now what do you pick, little Dove? Your fugitive, or your tracker?"

Her jaw still felt loose and detached, but she managed to move it enough to croak out, "Doc." She'd come here for one reason, and she hadn't forgotten that. If she was to be found, then it was to be. But they'd find Doc first.

Clarity shrugged her bare shoulders. "Very well." She stepped over to the corner of the room, between the couches, where a bowl sat on a pedestal, some kind of shining liquid in it. She leaned over, letting out a breath that was a violet cloud of gas. It mixed with the water, and Clarity dipped her fingers into it, closing her eyes, a light humming in the back of her throat.

Jade felt her fingers began to work, and she clutched Spike's arms, steadying herself a bit. He looked down at her, lips pursed lightly in concern. "You alright, Slayer?" His brow was furrowed.

Jade nodded, more to reassure him than anything. She felt weak, dizzy, but otherwise she was fine. She'd feel better. Lyth always felt drained when she came back from her sessions with Clarity, but in a couple days, she'd be a hundred percent again. "I'll be alright. Thanks." She alluded to him keeping her upright, and he shrugged it off. Sometimes he was perfectly fine with tooting his own horn, but obviously he didn't find anything significant about simply catching her, a reflex more than anything else. Jade heard a tsk from across the room and tore her gaze away from Spike to look to Clarity. She had removed her hands from the pool, looking pleased with herself.

"I couldn't find his exact location," Clarity announced, to which Spike let out a disbelieving scoff.

"Then what the bloody hell did we do all this for?" He sounded affronted, holding Jade a bit tighter, out of frustration rather than to apply more support.

Clarity made a smooching sound with her lips, the same that Jade did when she was calling over her cats. Clarity let out a light giggle, her shoulders swaying as she stepped over to them. "So angry, little Champion," She chided him. "The magic of this place is strong," She spread out her arms in a grand gesture, although Jade caught that she was speaking of Haven, not just the building they were in. "Even my magic cannot get through. So if I couldn't see him…" She giggled again.

"Then Doc's still in Haven," Jade finished with a relieved breath. She looked up at Spike eagerly, hoping he would share her enthusiasm, but his eyes were narrowed, looking at Clarity skeptically.

"You're sure?" He asked gruffly.

Clarity touched a long finger to her lip, smiling coquettishly at him. "I'm always sure, darling. I can even give you a direction. How lucky for you." With a slow, sensual twirl, she stopping gracefully and pointed. North-east. There wasn't too much of Haven to cover there. Clarity had narrowed it down quite considerably. Jade considered the exchange worth it. That is, if she really did regain her strength. "He'll be there for another few hours." One of Clarity's most paramount benefits is that not only could she search for someone, she could find their place and where they were going.

"If you say so," Spike still didn't sound convinced, but he was no longer hostile. "We'll be on our way, then. Gratitude and all that for your help," A genuine statement was made less so by the sarcasm he couldn't quite shake from his voice. He turned to help Jade out when Clarity spoke.

"Wait." Her voice was husky, commanding. Jade flinched, wondering if the demon wasn't benevolent at all. If they had to fight their way out of here, well Jade's threat had definitely been decreased. Spike stopped, and Jade could feel his body stiffen through their close contact. He was on alert too, as the purple demon stepped over to them.

"I have another gift, for a future favor," Clarity purred. With her long fingers, she reached out to stroke Jade's face. Spike turned his shoulder, to pull Jade away and assume a defensive position, but Clarity only laughed at him. She spoke something under her breath, another violet wisp, which exuded from her lips and reached towards Spike with frightening speed. Before the vampire could move, it immobilized him. The wisp sparkled as it swathed him. He remained still enough to hold Jade up, and Jade looked to him with alarm.

"What—"

"Calm, little beauty. It is only for a moment. I have no need to fight. This is born out of munificence, not malevolence." Now, unimpeded by Spike, Clarity drew the back of her fingers across Jade's face, from her cheek down to her lips. Clarity's silver irises had returned, making her seem a little less intimidating.

"You have a gift for me? Are you going to help me find who's looking for me?" Jade's heart constricted, but she avoided using the name for a reason. If she didn't admit it, maybe it wasn't true. Maybe it was someone else.

But Clarity waved her hand dismissively. "Not so important in the grand schemes. No, I see better things. Things important to you. Important to your essence. Completion," Her eyelids fluttered in a fit of ecstasy. Jade watched with discomfort, but there was nowhere to go, nothing she could do. She was still in Spike's tight embrace, even less escapable now that he was frozen. No, it was best to just do as the demon said, to listen. She didn't have many choices. "I will tell you something that will help you. And one day…you'll come back. Let me taste that essence."

"How do you know I'll come back?" Jade asked, frowning. It was true, she held her word in high regard. She would return if she promised so, but Clarity didn't know that.

"You'll come back. I've seen it. Now…" The demon leaned in, her lips brushing Jade's ear as she whispered a few words. As she pulled away, Jade's frown deepened.

"What does that mean?" They weren't instructions, they were just a couple of words that meant nothing to Jade.

Clarity giggled. "They'll help. You'll see. Now, go. Find your prey. Take your champion."

"He's not my champion," Jade protested, her cheeks flushing lightly. She was more defensive than she should have been, an open book in front of the demon, but she felt compelled to speak the truth. Clarity's eyes went from Jade to Spike.

"No," The demon agreed. "He's hers."


	30. Chapter 29

**29**

"Bloody hell. That was as nearly as much trouble as she was worth," Spike spoke as they reached outside. That sodding spell had worn off, and he could move, although he couldn't say the same for Jade. Though she kept pace with him as they left the demon woman's foliage covered tunnels, she still leaned on him heavily. Heavily might have been a stretch from the female who was barely over a hundred pounds, but it was clear she wasn't at her best. She seemed bothered by something, and Spike hadn't heard a damn thing after the demon bitch had immobilized him. She had done something, not the first time to cloud his hearing, keeping sounds from him. But whatever she had said, Jade had offered no explanation. Later. The vampire could wait. They only had a couple of hours of night left, so they had to decide what they wanted to do. Find the Doc, kill him. And whether or not Jade would come along. At this stage, she was more of a burden than anything else. But it made Spike more grateful that the demon hadn't picked him. He wanted to keep his strength, thank you very much. Didn't need to be protected by any Slayer.

"I left my bike not too far from here," Jade spoke up, the first thing she had said since Clarity had released them. "From when I was tracking Bailey. It seats two."

"Right. But first thing first." He unslung Jade from where she had her arm over his shoulder, leaning her against the outside wall. One of his hands still clutched her arm, to keep her upright as much to keep her _there_. She hadn't any choice to look at him now, which she did, her light blue gaze staring perplexedly back at him. "Seemed pretty spooked about purple-skin saying someone was looking for you. Who is it?" He had his no-nonsense tone, serious as he looked at her. He didn't want any dicking around. Give it to him straight up so there weren't too many surprises later. He'd had about enough of those for a while. Smooth sailing seemed impossible, but at least see where he was going.

Jade hesitated, taking a breath to steady herself. Then when she looked at Spike, her expression was composed. "My watcher. She's the one looking for me."

"Ran off on her, did you?" Spike scoffed, thinking of the Slayer that they had caught the other day. Bailey, was it? Whoever she was, the perky little thing that had put it in her head to split. Spike supposed that Jade had just been on her own because those were her cards, but no, she had just ran away. Made her seem younger. And he knew she was young enough, early twenties, but she managed to carry herself as older. Most of the time. "Had enough of book-reading?"

Jade closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they glistened, but she seemed more bitter than remorseful. "She arranged my Cruciamentum. Do you know what that is?"

"Some Slayer rite of passage gimmick, innit?" Spike asked, impatient.

"Yeah. The Slayer's powers are stripped away for a couple days, and she's put into a tomb or secure place with a vampire, having to kill them. I became a Slayer just before my eighteenth birthday, when all the potentials were activated. My Watcher, she had trained me since I was much younger, as a potential. But she found the opportunity to test me with the Cruciamentum. With a few differences." Jade's eyes narrowed. "She didn't do anything to my strength. Kept me normal-strong. And the vampire she threw me in with… It was Bennett. I didn't know, not until later. I thought it was an accident, but no. She arranged for him to be turned. So that I would have to kill him. That was my test." Jade whet her lips with her tongue.

"I failed," She continued. Spike knew that part. She said that she had let him go. Let him kill five people. "I was strong enough, I broke us free. He convinced me… that he was still the same. I had to hunt him down later, but that night I let him go. I found my Watcher, demanded an explanation. She denied it at first, but I eventually found out the truth. Found out that she had sent Bennett on an errand. He was always involved in my Slayer stuff, ready to do anything to help. I tracked down the Vampires who had turned him, and they told me they had been forced to, by magic. By my Watcher. She had told me a couple days before that I needed to cut Bennett from my life, that a Slayer worked alone and he was a distraction. I refused. And that was how she punished me."

"And you didn't kill her for that?" Spike's voice was rough, no mercy. No mercy for the bitch who tried to maneuver her eighteen-year-old charge into killing her boyfriend. That stuffy bastard Watchers' council. They were sick and twisted. Thought themselves so powerful because they were in charge of the Slayers. Made them think that old men with dusty tomes had all the power. Putting young girls through this bollocks when they had enough to deal with before that. Made Spike right glad that the Watcher's council had been destroyed a few years back. Sure, they had formed a new one, but this time out of the ones that Buffy trusted. No more old codgers who thought they everything. But the influence spread enough. He glanced at Jade. Another Slayer who had suffered. She had been seventeen at the time of calling, had she? Spike thought to if Jade had been one of the potentials taken to Buffy's house while they were fighting the first evil. It was very likely that he wouldn't even had noticed her. All his attention had been on Buffy. Still was. But no. Instead of fighting and possibly killing the Turok-Han, she had a battle of her own. And Spike felt sorry for her.

"No. I pretended that I didn't know the next time I saw her. She was so superior, so haughty. Reprimanding me for my failure and told me that I'd have to hunt down Bennett right away. That it was better this way. I. I kicked her. While her back was turned. Broke her back. On purpose. Didn't want her to hurt anyone again." There was shame on Jade's face, but to Spike, Jade had let her Watcher out easy. Should have just killed her. At least, that was the death Spike would have preferred. Being left unable to move would be a terrible fate for him, all useless. A fight with Buffy and Angel, after getting Drusilla her strength back had left Spike in a bloody wheelchair for months. It was a terrible fate. But he didn't reprimand Jade for it. Killing humans was different for Slayers, at least most of them. Buffy had been damn near inconsolable when she had thought she killed a woman, even though it would have been an accident. This was mercy, or the closest it could be while tied to vengeance. Not a good deed by any means, but it could have been worse. Spike would have done worse. "Then I hunted down Bennett and killed him." Jade finished her story, looking slightly dazed.

Spike released her from where he had half-pinned her to the wall. She stayed up on her own, leaning on it. "That's who's looking for you, Slayer? Your ass of a Watcher? But if you paralyzed the bitch, how would she be coming after you?"

"Magic, as I said. She must have found some way. And not in a healthy, wholesome nature magic arts kind of way."

He could see, even as she tried to keep her composure about her, that she was scared. Something about her watcher terrified her, and that just made Spike want the Watcher to show herself even more. He'd teach her a thing or too. And for the old Spike, that would have been a twist of a spine. He hadn't been into the sadistic, long torture like Angelus had been. Just the snap of a neck, bit of fangs and the deed was done. But that was the Soulless pre-chip Spike. Things were different now. He hadn't killed any humans since he got his soul back, at least not on purpose. And he couldn't change that now, couldn't promise he'd snap the Watcher's neck if she showed up all unwanted. Because he couldn't do that anymore. It was one of the few times he thought soulless Spike would be more helpful in these regards. No holding back. Get it done. But instead, they just had to be vigilant. Keep an eye out. He wasn't all too fond of fighting someone with magic compared to someone who could be taken down with a few punches, but there was little he could do about it. Besides, the purple Demon said that she had done the location spell days ago, where, to Earth's point of view, he and Jade were still stuck in a dimension. And if the Watcher wanted to find them there, well he had no problem with that.

"No need to fret," He spoke finally, giving her a toothy smile. She relaxed visibly, nodding. "Now. You feel well enough to face the Doc?" He asked it with a bit of skepticism. She looked like she had trouble standing on her own, but she nodded.

"I'm good," She said, though it probably wasn't true. Slayers and their arrogant pride. But hell, Spike was guilty of the same thing more than once. Most of the time. Besides, he could handle Doc by himself. As long as the bastard didn't have any more dimension tricks up his sleeve. He had wondered why Doc would stick around, in the chance that Jade and Spike would escape from the dimension prison. The only conclusion he came to was the reason why most demons and vampires came to Haven. Because something in the world was scarier than what was in the town. Which was good, for them. Meant Doc hadn't gotten very far. Meant revenge. Meant a very satisfying and good day.

They walked in the direction of Jade's bike, and she had fell silent again. She had attempted to talk on her own, prove that she could, but she was noticeably slow, and with a roll of his eyes, Spike entwined his arm with hers, giving her something else to lean on. "So…" He started after a couple moments of silence. "Making out with a demon, eh?" He teased her. He had seen the whole thing, although Clarity was admittedly attractive for a demon, nicely shaped knockers. But did she have two tongues? Taste like grasshoppers? Seeing Jade, the smaller, paler woman kiss the demon had been quite a sight. It had almost been hot. And very, very odd.

Jade flushed a deep red. "Well, one of us had to do it."

"I would have, you know. Bit glad I didn't have to. Nice carrying of the torch and all."

Jade shook her head, but he could see that smile break out on her face, more amused by his mocking than she was offended by it.

"Not the worse, you know. My Sire, Drusilla. Caught her making out with a chaos Demon." That had hit him _hard_ back then. And Drusilla, in her dazedly cryptic way had accused _Spike_ of being the 'cheating' one, that he was all wrapped up in Buffy, or some nonsense like that. Of course, Dru had been right all along, which Spike eventually discovered, to his own dismay, but it still hurt him at the time. He'd travelled all the way back to Sunnydale, thinking he could cook up a love potion to get Dru back to him. But she was such a daft, free spirit. Never would have worked. "Think antlers and goo. Sodding gross."

Jade wrinkled her nose in agreeing disgust. "I think I got the better deal," she admitted, her voice a bit quieter. But she smiled at Spike, genuine and grateful. It stirred a little feeling in his stomach, making himself feel good about himself, getting Jade's mind off of the Watcher. No need to be all serious and down all the time anyway. Life was too short for that. Well, not in Spike's case.

They found Jade's bike where she had parked it. It was smaller than the one Spike was used to, but admittedly, it was a nice one. All black, his style. And two seats, one for him and one for Jade. She tossed him the keys, and as he started the engine, she slid in behind him, wrapping her arm around his abdomen after a brief hesitation. They headed in the direction that Clarity had pointed, which there wasn't too many buildings between here and the water. They drove through the streets, looking for anything obvious, and eventually parked the bike in the middle of the area and walked instead, talking face to face to anyone that might have recognized Doc. Spike ran into a few of his old Poker buddies, but they hadn't seen anything.

"I've wondered about that," Jade spoke up after they'd hit another dead end.

"What's that, Slayer?" Spike said, narrowing his eyes as he set to recognize someone else who might have information.

"You played Kitten Poker with these people, right?"

"Yep. That's right. Most of the time. I was more interested in the money pools. Had to pay my rent somehow."

"Well," Jade frowned. "Lyth said most of those who play Kitten poker is because they want to eat them. A delicacy. Not exactly the greatest habit for a souled Vampire. You don't eat the kittens, do you?"

He stopped where he stood. "No," He said gruffly, making a face. "I don't eat the sodding kittens."

"But then why—"

"I saved them! Okay? I saved the bloody things so they wouldn't get eaten and then I let them go."

Jade stared at him with a bit of shock, and then burst into laughter. He glared indignantly at her.

"That's right. Spike the vampire cheats at poker so he can save little kitties. Bloody hilarious. God! I used to be the big bad, you know. But then I saw them playing one night, and all I could think was about saving their stupid, furry little lives." Jade was still laughing. He let go of her, and she nearly fell, but she steadied herself at the last second, putting her hand over her face in an attempt to quell her laughter, still with a silly smile on her face.

"I'm sorry," She said as she tried not to chuckle. He was affronted, glaring at her with all his might, and that was just making it worse. He wasn't even remotely scary any more, was he. He felt stupid just for admitting it. Why couldn't he just say that he ate the kittens himself. Or sold them back to the other players. Anything better than the truth.

"You're bloody not," Spike sniffed. He waggled a finger at her. "You tell one person about this and I swear—"

"Not a word," Jade promised, that damn smirk still on her face. He could just wipe that off her face, but he couldn't even hit her good-naturedly; she'd just fall over. And this wasn't the Buffy-Spike relationship where one of them hit the other for kicks. Although admittedly, he had been the one hit in that situation, the good ol game of Kick the Spike. But this was different. He wasn't going to hit her, in fact it was nice to see her giggle like a school girl. It was the first time he had seen it. She was so damn serious all the time.

And that persona returned minutes later after finally, a demon said he had seen a small old man in one of the nearby buildings. No more smiles, talks of kittens. Jade and Spike were ready to go. And it sure as hell was going to end better than last time. They stalked up the stairs of one of the less dilapidated buildings in this area, no wallpaper peeling or cracks in the wall. So this was where Doc had decided to set up shop. Did he think it was going to last any longer than his last place? He was bloody wrong. No more screwing around. Spike would tear off Doc's head and toss it into the fire. And then feed the rest of his body to the fishies. Spike heard the whistling of a blade as Jade drew that machete of hers out of its sheathed. She loved that little beat up blade. He had no idea why, but she was attached to it. As it was, he was hoping to fight most of this battle without needing her. She had regained her strength over the hours, but it still wasn't her best. She was short of breath climbing the stairs and she still leaned on things. But she told him that she was fine, so he'd believe her. He wasn't a caretaker and he sure as hell wasn't her watcher. If she said she was fine, that was the end.

This time, Spike didn't bother smashing the door down. He pushed the one that the demon had said was Doc's number, and lo and behold, it opened. Spike couldn't help the leer on his face, the ruthless, bloodthirsty urge that surged through him. No more screwing around. It was a mantra.

"And I'd like to order another Jirandum Codex book. Yes. Mine went missing a couple days ago. That'd be lovely." Doc was talking to someone, but by the lack of response, and the slight buzzing, Spike deduced that it was on the phone. Trying to recreate his library, was he? Well, then he shouldn't have let it all get sucked into another dimension, along with an extremely pissed Vampire. There was a click as Doc put down the phone, humming to himself. Jade and Spike entered the apartment, a light creak of the wood as Jade stepped through the short hallway to reveal another room, with Doc sitting at a desk. There were bookcases, but mostly empty, and only a handful of mystic items and ornaments. Doc glanced up, startled. For the first time, there was genuine surprise and maybe even fear on the demon's face, a light shaking in the depths of his black eyes. Spike savored it. That was right. Spike still inspired fear. And death.

"Shame you lost your collection, innit?" Spike smirked, feeling his forehead morph, his teeth becoming harder and longer. He was on hyper alert. Doc was not getting his hands on anything else that could cast any spell whatsoever.

Doc looked a little nervous. "Back already, are you? Can't depend on any spirit dimension any more. Did you at least bring any of my things back with you?"

"You won't be needing it," Spike spoke confidently. He watched as Doc's hand twitched, reaching for something on his desk. Spike charged forward, but something hit first. Doc let out a howl, blood pouring from his caught hand, stuck to his desk by Jade's machete. She was breathing heavily from behind Spike, having thrown her blade. Good on her. Not lingering to be impressed, Spike flung himself over the desk to the trapped Doc. Oh, the demon had made a mistake this time. He was in a corner, and he was trapped by a pissed Spike. "This is for Dawn," Spike snarled, his glee of fighting getting overridden by his anger. This was the son of the bitch that had make him break his promise. Had him look at Dawn, knowing there was nothing he could do to save her. Made him fall through the air, a failure. Unable to protect the sister of the woman he loved. Watching the woman he loved die too. That was what Doc had done. He grabbed Doc by the back of the neck, slamming his forehead into the desk. He snapped Doc's neck in one quick movement. But it wasn't over yet. Doc was still, for now, but the demon had suffered worse.

"This is for Buffy," Spike continued, taking Jade's machete and cutting off Doc's head. It toppled to the ground, spraying blue blood everywhere. But he wasn't sure, not yet. He took a hold of the headless body and dragged it over to the fireplace. It had already started, dim coals, sparks and flickering flames. He tossed Doc in there, and his clothes lit easily, spreading to his flesh. The skin took on a mottled, gray look as it began to get burned.

"And that's for me," Spike spoke solemnly into the flames. For throwing him off that tower. For getting him sucked into a portal. For trying to help Glory, that hell-bitch. He wasn't sure how long he was staring at the body when he heard Jade come up beside him. She was solemn too, no doubt because of his blood somber funereal attitude. She held the head, an impressive feat, for she did so without making a face or saying eww. Without saying anything, really, she tossed it into the fire to reunite it with its head.

"It's done," She said to him, trying to comfort him or something, Spike didn't know. The vampire nodded his head, letting that satisfaction surge through his body. Doc would never hurt anyone again. No scared little girls that couldn't defend themselves.

"Yes," he agreed. "Damn right, Slayer. It's done."


	31. Chapter 30

**30**

They had stayed there for a while. So long, that the night was nearly over. With the search of Doc, and the visit to Clarity, they had used up the whole night. Spike was likely trapped in this building until the next night, which didn't seem to bother him. At least Jade was free to go. Travelling by the sun was a plus. No vampires, no drama. She could go home, get a few hours of much needed rest, until Spike decided whatever he wanted to do next. She had a feeling it wouldn't include Haven. As happy as she was that he had finished what he had come to do, hopefully resolving whatever hatred he had because of the demon, it likely meant that Spike would move on. Go back to the Slayers, and Buffy. There was very little Jade could do about that. Couldn't complain, wouldn't beg. She just stared into the fire with Spike. He didn't move until the body was ashes, and even then, took a handful of it, throwing it out the window, hissing as a ray of sunlight burnt his skin for his troubles. Wanted to make sure the ashes were spread to hell, Jade assumed. He brought in his red hand, but it was an inconsequential burn, barely even smoking.

Jade cleared her throat. They hadn't spoken in a while. Spike had continued to stand in front of the fireplace while Jade had succumbed to her exhaustion and sat down. It had been an hour, maybe two. Spike turned back in her direction after he abandoned the window. She glanced up at him, curious. "So what now?" She tried to play it casual, but it wasn't casual at all. Bye, Spike, thanks for dropping by again. Won't miss you a bit. She might have believed it from last time, but it was different now. More memories. She knew more about him now, and it didn't quench her thirst, only increased it. She didn't want it to end. That was the truth. But he'd shake her off like an over-eager puppy and return to his Buffy. Buffy. Jade had to remind herself of the blonde Slayer or else she'd have the wrong impression. Spike was quite taken already. No amount of wishing or dreaming could change that.

"Go to go back to Slayer base," Spike stated it matter-of-factly, and Jade dimly nodded. She shouldn't expect the opposite. "And you're coming with me."

Jade blinked. "What?" She wasn't disagreeing, merely surprised. There was a reason she stayed in Haven, although it seemed it hadn't mattered if her Watcher had zoned in on her here. Could possibly be within the town right now. The thought caused her heart to flutter unsteadily. "Is this about what Willow phoned you about?" She asked. Spike had dodged around it before, but now he was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah. Seems like there's a bit of big bad in the week where we were gone. Slayers have been disappearing from all over, those in Buffy's bunch and those that aren't. Remember the two Slayers I brought with me to take that Barbie—Bailey, whatever, home? They never made it. Willow," he stressed the witch's name. "Wants us to come back. Til we figure it out." His eyes found hers, that same light blue, considering her point of view. "You in?"

He was offering her a choice. Nice enough of him. Her mind was still a flurry though. Bailey. Yes, in the brief time she had met the younger Slayer she had found her to be a huge pain in the ass, but still. She was only sixteen. A kid, still. Most of the Slayers were. Buffy was the oldest, and she wasn't even 25, was she? Kids leading kids, and now there were some missing. This was a problem. A big one. The kind that Jade had wanted to be called back for. Sure, she wanted to keep to herself, stay in a small town, live her life quietly, but it wasn't what she was made for. Her blood flamed for the battle, and she was meant for good, not hiding out with a Mok'tagar Demon and tiptoeing with vampires. Still. She was more comfortable in Haven then she would be among the Slayers, and when the day was over, she didn't belong with them. But this wasn't forever. And it was Spike asking. And she sure as hell didn't want to be one of the ones disappearing because she was a lone wolf idiot. Better stay in a safe place until this was figured out. Still, she had questions. "Do they know why? Or who? Are the Slayers dead, or just missing?"

Spike shrugged. He didn't seem to know much more than she did. They probably didn't think they needed to give Spike the whole story step by step—at least over a voicemail. And he didn't need much to call him back, did he? "No. They don't know much yet. Willow thinks the Slayers are alive, that someone's taking them for some reason." His lips stayed parted in a light 'o', looking at her inquisitively. She hadn't given him an answer yet, although she knew as soon as he had asked.

"I'm in." She said. "I'll help. Be an extra body, at least."

Spike nodded, satisfied. "Well. I'm stuck here until the sun's down. Say your goodbyes, get your things."

"Yeah," Jade agreed. They were leaving that night, then. It was sudden. Another jarring halt to the simplistic life she had sentenced herself to here. "Meet me at my apartment, then, when it's night time." She glanced around the apartment, mostly bare, with a cracked desk and blue blood splattered everywhere, and the ashes from Doc's burned body. Spike didn't seem to have any qualms about staying here for the day, and she figured any advice to be careful wouldn't go over well. Spike could take care of himself, anyway. "See you in a few hours." After telling him her address, and shooting one more glance at the lone vampire as she left the apartment, Jade went to 'say her goodbyes' as Spike had put it. She wished she had asked him how long he thought they'd be gone, but his already vague answers told her that she didn't think he really knew. And besides, how precise could he possibly be? Three weeks, eight days, four hours. Tell your boss, we'll be back right on time. No, she didn't think so. And it wasn't as if she had heaps of money in reserve, not any more. Couldn't just come and go as she pleased and expected nothing to change. But she was going to. Because Slayers were disappearing. But really, because Spike had asked her.

* * *

After returning to her bike and remembering to sort through it, she found her phone, not at all surprised it had drained out over the week. She bit back a sigh. She probably needed to make most of these visits in person anyway.

She found herself at the Police Station first. It was early, but she knew the Prio Motu sheriff would be there. She was pretty sure that Hazim slept there, always on clock, 24/7. That is, if he slept. She wasn't quite sure. The cheery greeting from Deputy Hart was offset by Hazim's normal gruff temperament. Admittedly, the Sheriff was in a better mood than previous. She mentioned that Bailey was gone, although omitted the facts that she was missing, and that she was leaving for a while, and hopefully everything would go back to normal. It was a bit of an apology, really, and a plea to be allowed to be back into the town when she returned. Hazim seemed to accept her version of the events, admitting that Haven had settled back somewhat, after the slayings had stopped, and over the week, things had improved. As it was, Jade left the police station somewhat reassured by the fact that Hazim probably wouldn't run her out of town or kill her the next time she showed up. She still played by the rules, and she had fixed the problem. Her first stop was done.

The second was the orphanage. It was still relatively early, just before their school was to start. Haven had one school, which they mashed all the grades in. The point of Haven was to not have to leave it, so busing to a nearby town was not an option for most of the inhabitants. The more normal humans of Haven—and there were some, they opted for the busing. But not the Orphans. Seeing as plenty of them were demon, half demon or other, it was for the best that they stayed within Haven. But they could be out in the sun, among other individuals, their peers, and not be ashamed of their appearance. It was something.

She reached the orphanage to be greeted by Nigellus, or Nigel as he had everyone call him. His pink skinned flappy bits that worked as ears jiggled a bit as he smiled at her. No, Jade had not quite gotten used to his appearance, but he was friendly enough, smiling widely at her and welcoming her in without delay.

"Good morning. The children have been asking about you a lot. They were disappointed that you didn't show up last week," Nigel spoke over his shoulder at her as he began leading her into the hallway. At least the orphanage looked better. New paint, less cracks, and more children's pictures decorating the walls. Jade glanced at one. She saw the signature at the bottom, a loosely scrawled LISA. She glanced with passing interest. Jade was depicted here, with long brown hair that fell to her feet, and a sword in hand. She was surrounded by two girls and a boy, who she assumed to be Gunner, Rachel and Lisa. They all had smiles on their face. Above them, another girl, this one with angel wings. Neva. Jade's fingers touched to the girl drawn as Neva, recognizable by the wacky curls of black hair. And the angel wings. It suited Neva. It was where she was now.

"Days passed a bit too quick," Jade replied nonchalantly, but Nigel was happily talking to himself anyway, so much so she doubted he'd even recognize if she answered or not—or cared either way. He just wanted to jabber.

"I told them you'd be back soon enough. Kids are so impatient, though. They like knowing for certain. And then once they do, they just want it to be now, now, now."

"Sounds about right."

"They'll be happy to see you here." Nigel said, stopping them at the stairs. "They'll be down soon. Just getting ready for school."

"About that…" Maybe it was best to tell Nigel this, alone, so she wouldn't have to tell the children. Be easier this way. "I'm heading out of town for a bit. Don't know when I'll be back."

Nigel frowned, at least Jade thought it was a frown. He had so many creases in his rather wrinkly skin, it was hard to tell when there were new ones. He looked crestfallen, more on the behalf of the children, though he liked feeling their pain with them. Maybe it was the emotion empathy thing. Or to help buffer a rapport. She didn't know. "Oh. They'll be disappointed. You sure you have to go?"

"Positive." There was a clatter of footsteps upstairs. "You think you could tell them for—"

"Jade!" She heard a shrill voice call her name. For a moment she was reminded of Neva, but a paler, pudgy face showed itself instead. Rachel, who-half tripped down the stairs running towards her. Jade opened her mouth to negate the hug, but it didn't stop the little blonde, who wrapped her arms around Jade's legs. Jade tolerated it for a couple of seconds, which she counted as rowboats, before shaking herself free.

"Not a hugger," Jade reminded Rachel, who just beamed up at her, unfazed towards the Slayer's arm-length conduct with children.

"We missed you," She grinned.

"I've been hearing that," Jade said with a sigh. She looked over at Nigel, who grinned back at her, a bit smug.

"Think they'd let you escape without a goodbye, did you?" He smiled, and then hearing his voice from upstairs, climbed the stairs to answer the call. Jade glanced at his retreating back, and then at Rachel, who was still looking at her. At least she could still smile. Instead of berating the child for being overly happy, Jade should be encouraging it. Hell, she herself still had nightmares from the circle of children. And Lisa was much younger. She could be traumatized for life.

"How are you, Rachel?" Jade asked, reminding herself of the fact that just because she didn't like children, she shouldn't be an asshole. They could pick up on that. And they didn't deserve that. They had been through enough. Far too much for one lifetime and she wasn't even seven.

"Good. Lisa's teaching me how to lift a pencil. I can make it spin on the ground. Sometimes. But that's it." Rachel scrunched her nose. So the event hadn't dulled Rachel's—or Lisa's—appreciation for the mystical arts. It had probably increased it, as Jade had expected. She bemoaned the fact that she hadn't gone to see Madame Syeira about those magical lessons, but maybe she could convince Lyth to do it. Lyth was the one who was there all the time anyway, the demon would have a better bet.

"That's great," Jade said, with probably less forced enthusiasm than Rachel expected.

"Hi, Jade." A softer voice sounded, and this time, a calmer, older girl descended the stairs. Her black hair was braided into two, which made her look younger, though her black eyes were more calm and reflective. Jade gave her a light smile.

"Hey." Jade returned. Rachel was sniffing at her backpack, and so Jade rolled her eyes, taking the bag she had bought before coming here, as she did most times. This time, it was mars bars. She dropped the whole thing in Rachel's hands, who squealed. "Make sure she shares that," Jade advised Lisa, who nodded seriously.

"Nigel says you're leaving," Lisa said quietly. Rachel paused from tearing open a bar, looking with dismay at Jade.

Jade nodded. So he had shared that piece of information with Lisa while he had been upstairs. Jade was glad. Made it a bit easier than trying to break it herself. "Yeah. Heading out of town for a bit. Slayers need some help."

Lisa nodded, understanding, but Rachel started blubbering, her bottom lip trembling. "Why do you have to go, Jade? You weren't here last week, and now you won't be here next week?"

Jade bit back a sigh. She wasn't all that good at speaking, especially to children. As she opened her mouth to stumble out some explanation, Lisa beat her to the punch. The Chinese girl had reached Rachel's side, and touched a gentle hand to her shoulder. "Jade has to go save the world again. Like she saved us," Lisa spoke seriously, and Rachel's bottom lip stopped trembling enough to nod. With round eyes, she turned back to Jade.

"Save them all," Rachel spoke with uncharacteristic seriousness.

Jade nodded. "I will." Her words felt powerful, as a promise to a child should be. Although she really didn't plan to save anyone, she hoped that the missing Slayers didn't need it. A strict lack of problems would be nice, though it rarely worked out that way. As Rachel seemed to slowly accept the fact that Jade wouldn't be there next week and maybe even the week after, Jade turned her attention to Lisa.

"Could you find Henry for me?" Jade asked. "I'd like to see him." She could barely even remember his face, and his name, let alone why she had mentioned it to Eddie, and she wanted to figure it out, if she could. Lisa nodded, curious but quiet as she bobbed back up the stairs with graceful quickness. Kids were coming down the stairs now, ready for school. Some stopped and said a few words to Jade, but most knew of her aversion to hugs, and settled with slightly unenthusiastic high fives. Rachel had opened a chocolate bar and was gulping it down to contend with her dismay.

"Don't let that spoil your breakfast," Jade warned, mentally bashing herself as soon as she let the words come out. She sounded like an overbearing aunt. Ugh.

Rachel giggled. "We had breakfast already. I have room." She patted her pudgy belly. Another kid called her name, and she glanced to them, then back to Jade uncertainly. "I have to go sit on the bus," Rachel informed her hesitantly.

Jade gave her a smile, as reassuring as she could manage. "Then that's okay. Go get your seat before the kids take it. I'll see you around, Rachel." The blonde girl tried to squeeze another hug out of Jade, and Jade gave the child an awkward pat before she pranced off. The orphanage had their own bus now, to transport the children around. Jade thought of the van they had used to take them last time and shivered. A bus was much better.

"Jade? I brought Henry." Jade's head raised to see Lisa descending the stairs again, this time with another boy. So that was Henry. He was skinny, small, and wearing a ball cap. Jade turned her head to the side, and there it was, a tuft of ginger hair poking out beneath his hat. Jade stared at him with alarm. She hadn't noticed the red hair before. And he was skinny, with familiar light green eyes. That was Henry, then? There was a resemblance to Eddie that she couldn't deny. But she had never seen it before, never looked. Until now. And Eddie had been so spooked to see Jade mention him. There must be some connection, but she didn't know what. She was feeling remarkably confused, and a bit spooked. Henry looked back at her, calm but a bit curious.

"Hi," Jade managed, then stayed silent for a couple seconds longer, trying to collect her thoughts. "Just wanted to ask you a question, if that's alright."

Henry shrugged, looking from Jade to Lisa. Lisa gave him an encouraging smile. The young boy nodded in assent.

"Just wanted to know if you knew Eddie at all. Eddie Grayson?" What was Henry's last name? She seemed to remember it was something unremarkable, like Johnson or Brown. She watched the boy's expression, but he revealed nothing, just nodding his head again, mostly listless.

"Sure. He's babysitted a couple times. He's alright. Brought some pokemon cards with him last time." Henry didn't seem to know the reason for Jade's questioning. At least something personal. Maybe she was just crazy. That there was no connection whatsoever. She had been really tired when she had spoken to Eddie. Hence the strange babble. As it was, Henry didn't seem to be in a place to reveal anything about Eddie, either on purpose or just due to ignorance. She let it slide. It wasn't that important.

"Great. Thanks." She spoke at the same time that Nigel appeared at the top of the stairs, a child with blue spiked skin and red eyes coming along with him.

"Hey, better get off to the bus now," Nigel called down to them. "We can't be late every day. Just most days. It's healthy."

Lisa's lip twitched into a light smile, looking back at the loose-skinned demon with affection. Jade did feel better knowing that the children were being taken care of. Made her feel less guilty about taking off. But she had no need to feel guilty at all. They weren't her kids or her responsibility. But she did still care. Lisa turned back to her, inquisitive. "Is that all you wanted, Jade?"

"Yeah. Have a good day guys. And I'll try to come back soon." Lisa nodded, less upset than Rachel had been, but there was a sadder gleam in her black eyes. "I miss you." Jade added, a blurt more than anything. She frowned a little after she said it, the emotional burst not really her style, and the present tense of 'miss' wasn't her. Especially with the kids she was trying to convince to not get attached to her.

Lisa's head jerked up, but instead of making fun of her strange words, gave her a light smile, eyes shining softly back at Jade. "Miss you too," Lisa whispered, and then hurried off. Henry just looked watchful, giving Jade a light shrug as a goodbye. Jade left the building not long after them, telling Nigel to call her if anything went wrong. It was the same proposal she had offered to the Slayers. She could be called there if they needed her, but she wouldn't stay.

She had gone to the liquor store, but Eddie wasn't there, and when she had knocked at his door, he hadn't answered either. She was a tad worried, but she shrugged it off. She didn't know everything about Eddie. He was just her boss. He had plenty of ties to the community that she didn't share in or know about. Whatever she wanted to talk to him about would have to wait for when she returned. He had done enough for her anyway, accepted the fact that she'd be gone for a while. She'd let it lay. There were other things that should be on her mind. The missing Slayers, for one. Missing implied that even Willow couldn't find them, and if the powerful witch could break through the obscurity barrier over Haven, that was saying something.

She returned home, and Lyth was gone as well. That was much more normal, the demon was always finding things to do, if it was visiting with Madame Syeira and asking for more identity changers, playing her Poker, or any number of demon things that Lyth took part in. Poker. At the thought of it, Jade smiled, thinking of Spike's aghast reaction and painful admittance. Playing poker to save kittens. It was humorous and somewhat adorable. And if she spoke those words out loud, she was sure that Spike would make them regret them. At the thought of cats, one rubbed against her leg, asking for a pet. Jade appeased her with a quick scratch behind the ears, making sure to fill the automatic cat feeder. Lyth did rarely, if she was given a favor of some sort, but Jade hoped she would do so in Jade's absence. And that her absence wouldn't be long. Another quick problem to solve and return home. Like Doc's case had been. She shivered at the memory of his falling head, that blue spray of blood. And Spike had looked so content, appeased. Jade didn't know what Doc had done to Dawn, Buffy and Spike, but hopefully he had paid for it now.

Jade had begun packing, collecting her things. She plugged in her phone so at least she'd be able to use it again, remembering her promise to Nigel. It was noon, and the bright sun through her windows reminded her that she hadn't slept since the day previous. All the running around had messed with her sleeping schedule. She was sleeping during the day like the vampire she travelled with. Spike. He was still trapped in the building for a couple hours, so she found no problem with dragging herself to her bed to sleep. The ordeal with Clarity still weighed on her, and exhaustion was weighing on her. She hoped rest would fix it. She hoped it would fix a lot of things.


	32. Chapter 31

**31**

Spike showed up at her apartment not too long after sunset. After staring at the blood traces of Doc across the floor for far too long, he had slept fitlessly until it was time to travel. They didn't have much time to waste, the trip to San Francisco was around five to six hours, and they didn't have a van to protect Spike from the sun. Couldn't waste that much dark. So after he could leave the apartment building without sizzling too much, he went to check up on where he had buckled up his bike the last time he had been in Haven. A bit of gas fixed her up good, and Spike rode it over to Jade's building, parking it next to her own motorcycle. Spike's was bigger, with a bit more power behind the engine, but hers wasn't too shabby. And a motorcycle. Hadn't seen that one coming. He climbed up the stairs after seeing that she wasn't outside and waiting. The door to her apartment was closed, but she could hear voices and rushing behind it. With a sigh, he rapped on the door.

"That better not be coming inside," huffed a distinctly feminine voice. That broad from Poker, the Mok'Tagar Demon, or whatever Jade said she was. Jade's voice, slightly muted, he couldn't catch as well, but then seconds later, she was opening the door. She looked a bit rushed, her hair mussed—as it often was, though a can of hairspray would go far—and her cheeks red. She looked like she had just awoke, blinking tiredly at him. "I just need a couple more minutes," She apologized to him. "Just finishing gathering a few things."

"Hurry up," Spike said, although not nearly as impatiently as he could have. "Night time's a wasting." He glanced to her and to the doorway after she nodded thankfully, and she made a face.

"I think Lyth will break my arm if I invite you in here," She said apologetically, and Spike rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'll wait out." She gave him a grateful smile. He took a few steps back, leaning his head against the drywall. Maybe he should just go outside, grab a smoke while he waited. He could glimpse into the apartment. From his narrow view he could see a cat, perhaps two. And then the demon, 'Lyth'. She was glaring suspiciously at him. But boy, did she do it well. Not human, but she wore the sight well. Shapely and erotic, her brown eyes could be fetching if she wasn't making a dark face at him. He didn't begrudge her beauty simply because she was a demon. Hell, so was Spike. Well. Half of one. He was just picking himself off the wall when Jade stepped out into the hallway, rushed.

"Here. Play with this while you wait. Only a couple of minutes, I promise." She shoved something into his hand and stepped back into her apartment. Spike stared at it, a little handheld console. He had played Xbox a while back, for rehabilitation after he had lost his hands and had them reattached.

"Oi!" He called after the woman. "What is this?"

"It's Pokémon. I haven't started a game on that cartridge, so go wild. It's Silver."

Spike stared at her retreating form as if she was speaking gibberish. And it mostly was. He looked at the gray object. Game Boy Advance. Hmmm. He'd never played Pokémon before, hadn't cared all that much about it when he was the big bad, but he tentatively turned it on. Give him something to do, anyway. At the same time, he could hear Jade and Lyth's voices pick up again.

"I hope you're going to still pay rent," Lyth spoke, sounding decisively impertinent, but something about her words and the way she spoke reminded Spike of another demon. Ex-demon. Human, demon, human, demon, human. Dead. Anya, the strange vengeance demon turned human, who he had still gotten along with well enough during their scoobie gang time. Although she shacked up with Xander, whom Spike readily ignored. And then there was that one time they had shagged, Anya and he. Yeah, that had been a bit of a mistake, but he had been somewhat desolate and self-destructive. Was an act to console. Didn't make him feel much better after, no. But Anya had been free with her quips and awfully rude, which reminded Spike of himself a little. Humans were way too tactful. Too much worrying about what other people thought. Anya had been refreshing. Lyth, however. She was just a reminder of how annoying that breath of air was.

"Of course. And I don't know how long I'll be gone, Lyth. It might not be too long. Just after this is all resolved. Then I'll be back."

"If I don't find a new roommate by then." Lyth sniffed. "And get rid of all these cats."

"Give them to the orphanage if you can't stand them. Just don't leave them on the street."

Lyth tsked her teeth. Man, that broad was laying it on thick, like she was some goddess. Spike shook his head, looking at the three strange creatures depicted on the screen in his hands. There was an odd-looking leaf thing, some kind of fire vole and a crocodile. He didn't mull it over for long. Crocodile, definitely. It was the most threatening-looking one of the lot, though it was a bit too smiley for his liking. Pokemon really sucked out the intimidation from these creatures, didn't they. He'd hate for them to do a representation of a vampire. Be all happy with soft little teeth instead of full-on fangs. And not to mention, animated. Too much. That said, he was quite absorbed in the little device, only half-listening to Jade and Lyth's conversation.

"If you could do me a favor," Jade was saying, "Maybe talk to Madame Syeira for me? See if she would be willing to stop by the Orphanage sometime, maybe teach the kids a few spells or so."

"I'm sure she has better things to do," Lyth replied haughtily. "Alright, fine I'll talk to her. Don't expect anything. I don't know why I'm doing you any favors. You'll just never return."

"I'm coming back, Lyth. And thank you."

"Yeah, well. See how quickly you forget everything I've done for you. Still. Don't be stupid and get killed. I just thought about how troublesome it would be to find a new roommate as pushover-y as you and it made my heart skip a beat."

Jade laughed. "I'll be back. Take care of yourself."

"I'm not a favor-machine, you know. Nothing's free. But, fine. Take that vampire and get out of here. He's stinking up the hall."

"Oi!" Spike yelled from where he stood.

"You heard me."

Jade came into view then, a light smile on her lips as she gently shook her head. There was a dufflebag over her shoulder, and he could see a couple of arrows and stakes as she worked to zip it up. He approved. Not just clothes then, the weapons were just as important. Got to be prepared, somewhat. Jade looked at him, her smile disappearing a little, looking at him inquisitively. Spike supposed he might be worried about earlier, when he had killed Doc. Wasn't like Spike had too much of a fit. Just overly happy about pummeling the demon to bits. And why shouldn't he? The demon bloody deserved it. And a hell of a lot worse.

"What did you name your rival?" Jade was asking him, and Spike blinked at her like she was off your rocker.

"In the game. You did get that far, didn't you? It was wanker, wasn't it."

Spike glanced from Jade down to the game boy. Damnit. She was right. It was just an instinctive reflex. "You saw," He accused, and Jade laughed. "How'd you even know words like wanker anyway?"

"I watched a lot of—"

"If you say Doctor Who, I will toss you out the building." Spike warned her.

Jade blinked, her smile widening. "…Never mind the buzzcocks."

"You did not. Nobody watches that."

"I did. A bit of it." Jade laughed. "It just seems like something you'd call your rival."

"It was almost knobhead."

Jade laughed again. Spike couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Her damn smile was a bit infectious when it finally made its appearance. Far too serious, most of the time. But she could have fun when she wanted to. Spike knew there were the moments between the bad that needed to be cherished. Because if there was one thing the world did it was descend into hell.

He kept his attention on the Gameboy Advance as they made their way down the stairs, Jade easily lugging her dufflebag. That Slayer strength. Still was an odd sight, after all this year, to see such a small slight of a girl possess such strength. Though should have been a lesson he'd learned by now. Dru looked damn vulnerable to the idiotic eye, but she could handle herself. Even bagged herself a Slayer once. Spike had been proud as hell when he learned that, but now the death of Slayers didn't result in a good day, just remorse. He'd lost the elation of some things when he regained his soul. But he felt more now, a spectrum of options, rather than just a twisted dark. Though he had always felt love. Losing his soul hadn't changed that. What was it that Drusilla had said? That they could love without souls, but not wisely. That was it. And that was the truth. Spike had fallen for the Slayer, after all. The one Chosen one chosen to kick his ass and he had fallen like a chained up puppy. Desperate for her affections.

Something that hadn't changed after he got his soul back.

As soon as they stepped outside, into the twinkling night, Spike lit a cigarette, all the while playing at the Gameboy Advance.

"I hope you brought extra batteries," He commented to Jade, who shot him a placid look.

"You're not going to be playing that while you're driving your motorcycle," She had meant it as a statement, but then muttered a "I hope," under her breath, realising she couldn't really make the Vampire do anything. He smirked. Smart girl.

"Vampire. Fast reflexes."

"Dangerous," Jade returned, but she shrugged. "And yeah, I brought more batteries." She passed him a light smile. He kept in pace with her as they walked across the parking lot, to where their bikes were. That was, until he stopped suddenly. The device slipped through his fingers.

Jade reacted quickly, catching the Gameboy before it could smash on the concrete. Irritation and anger flashed across her expression. "Hey! Be careful with that!" She held the small machine to her stomach protectively, failing to recognize Spike's suddenly baffled expression.

"Slayer, I can't move."

Confusion crossed her face, the anger gone. She slipped the Advance into her dufflebag, her eyes wide as she looked at him. He was completely still, except his mouth, frozen in mid-step. "At all?"

"Looks like that, innit?" Spike snapped back. He couldn't move anything, except to glance at Jade. Magic, it had to be. Some leftover vengeance for killing Doc? He didn't know. Jade stepped over to him, wrapping her slim fingers around his wrist, attempting to move him that way. He did budge, although she had to apply her strength, as if rearranging an inanimate object. She stopped trying to push him, taking a deep breath from the exertion. She gazed at him, the same confusion in her eyes.

"I don't know what—" Her eyes flickered from him to behind him, and a horror filled her expression, immediately paling before his eyes. "Oh god." She whispered.

"What?" What was behind him? He couldn't turn his bloody neck. Couldn't move anything but his eyeballs, and his peripheral vision showed him a whole lot of nothing. Jade was still gaping at something behind him. It reminded him of the Spirit dimension, when she had been presented with that image of her dead boyfriend. "Jade, what is it?"

Jade's lower lip trembled. "My watcher." She was still staring at someone behind him, and then he heard a laugh. He hadn't heard it before, the light shuffling of feet and the squeak of wheels. He had been a little too absorbed in his game and banter with Jade and stuck in the music of the game to be watchful. His bloody mistake. "Penelope," Jade looked stricken, and Spike still couldn't look at what it was. Why couldn't he _move_?

"Jade." A voice, huskier than Jade's and malicious within its gooey, saccharine semblance broke through the air. "There you are. And your companion. Let me look at you." Before Spike could say a word, obvious or not—that he couldn't move, he suddenly found his body moving without his command. One foot twisting over the other, he turned, facing the voice. A woman faced them, sitting in a wheelchair decked out, braces on her arms, neck, legs, something around her neck to help her breathe. She had shorn brown hair, and vicious eyes that gleam at them. Behind her stood a staggering man. Spike could recognize another corpse when he saw him, but the man was no vampire. A mindless, reanimated corpse, his rotting fingers wrapped around the woman's wheelchair as he pushed her closer to Jade and Spike.

"Pen." Jade whispered. The woman was in her early thirties, her expression cold and impassive, except for the gleam of triumph in her eyes. "You found me."

"Yes, well. Took a bit of time. A bit of creative magic, seeing as I can't move my body on my own."

"Bloody lucky you still have a body left," Spike cut in.

"Yes. Well, creative, as I said. Can't move my young, otherwise healthy body, due to my broken back." Her words were carefully spoke with a detachment and bitter mix, her gaze locked onto Jade. "Learned some new tricks, though. Can't move a living body. But I can control the dead's." She muttered something under her breath, and the zombie behind her stopped moving her chair. She could control the dead. Bloody hell. Her eyes twitched with malevolence as she muttered something else, and Spike's hand raised, then lowered, completely against his will.

"What are you doing here?" Jade tried to stay calm, but Spike could hear her heart beat, a rapid fettering that betrayed her anxiety. _Pull yourself together_ , he thought to her. The girl was bloody terrified. She had never seen so young as she did now, as he glanced at her face through his peripheral. She had stepped to stand behind him, almost in front of him protectively.

"I came to make sure you finished your Cruciamentum." Penelope said proudly. "The last one went poorly."

Jade let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. When she spoke, her voice was unsteady. "You're psychotic," Jade breathed. "You need help, Pen. It's over."

"Yes, you made sure of that when you shattered my spine, didn't you?"

"You killed Bennett." Jade's broken tone turned hard, like steel. "You turned him into a vampire to spite me."

"I had him turned to _test_ you. You had the chance to let him go. He would still have been alive. You failed him. You failed all of us." The Watcher scoffed.

Jade ran her fingers through her curls, shaking her head with dismay. "I can't get through to you. You never listened," Jade replied, shaking her head. "What I did to you is wrong. What you did to me was worse."

"You were such a pathetic excuse for a Slayer. And here you are, proving me right. Taking company with a vampire."

"He's good!" Jade snapped back. "Just leave, Pen. I never want to see you again, but I won't hurt you. Just go."

"You don't understand. It's not in your favor. Never was. You're outmaneuvered, like always."

"Bloody hell," Spike said, his hand curling into a fist. "Jade, I can't…" His hand was moving on its own, his arm. Jade glanced at him, realization washing over her features. She snapped her head back to Penelope.

"Let him go," Jade demanded.

"You've missed the point, again. I control him; I control you, you've made it so."

Jade unsheathed her machete. "We'll see about that," The Slayer hissed. She strode purposefully towards Penelope. "You'll regret coming here." She was halfway to Penelope, who looked back at Jade, undeterred. Not just that, triumphant, arrogant.

"Jade." The word burst from Spike's mouth, a strangled sound. He held a stake at his chest. His tone caught Jade's attention, and she stopped, a few steps from Penelope, to turn to look at him. Her eyes widened. Spike had reached for the bag Jade had dropped, in a few seconds, collecting one of the stakes with his vampire speed, and now he held it at his heart, his arm trembling with the effort. It wasn't him. It was the woman.

"I'd stop there," Penelope advised. Jade looked from Spike to Penelope, and Spike swore under her breath. Damn bitch. His free hand had pushed his jacket out of the way, ripping a hole in his shirt, over his left pectoral. The wooden stake was pressed to his pale skin without deterrence. When Jade's foot hovered half a step closer to Penelope, Spike pushed the stake into his chest, breaking the skin as is cut in a few centimeters. He grunted, some blood gathering at the wood tip. Jade had glanced back at him, horrified. The Slayer did as her ex-watcher bid, stopping where she was, taking a step back.

"You don't need to hurt him," Jade spoke in a tone that was steadier than her heart.

"No. You do. Because you're the Slayer. That's your calling. That's the reason you exist," Penelope responded, disgust on her face as she looked at Jade.

"Bitch," Spike muttered murderously. "Coward's way to fight." His arm trembled as he held the stake to his heart. "Spew a few magic words, think you're all that."

"I know you're thinking about throwing that at me. I'll have him dusted before it's halfway to me. Drop it." Penelope spoke. Jade's machete clattered to the cement.

"Don't do this," Jade pleaded. "He's good. He's on the good side. Can't you see that? What do I have to do for you to release him?"

Penelope scoffed, shaking her head. "And I'm the one that doesn't listen. You have your own version of the world, all wrapped up in a silver lining. Always wanting the happy ending. After all this time. There is no releasing him. Fight him. Complete your cruciamentum. Prove yourself to be the Slayer. Or watch me stake him for you, and fail again."

"That isn't a choice!" Jade shouted.

"Life is about sacrifice when you're the Slayer. You don't get choices. You have a purpose, and without it, you are nothing. Prove me wrong," Penelope's eyes narrowed, a mocking smile on her lips. "Kill the vampire, and finally. We can be a family again, sister."


	33. Chapter 32

**32**

She felt like a child again, at the mercy of her sister, the watcher. No will of her own, she had a duty to her destiny. Train, train, train. Learn, do this. All discipline, no choice. Bennett had been all that got her through those days. He had convinced her to grow a backbone, to stand for herself, and she had gotten stronger over the years, more independent. The first real step had been refusing to give up Bennett so she could focus entirely on her Slaying. She had refused to work alone, and had been punished for it. It had taken almost a year for Jade to realise that Pen had been behind Bennett's turning. For a year Jade had obeyed the person who had navigated her into depression and isolation. Jade had been almost frenetic when she had discovered the truth, hurt, betrayed. And her pride had suffered, that she let herself been maneuvered so easily. It had been her shame that had fueled her bitterness, and perhaps when she struck at her Watcher, her _sister_ , meaning to hurt her, she had done it for herself more than she had done it for Bennett. Not out of vengeance, but selfishness. Pen had always brought the worst out of her. It was so hard to shake free of Penelope's influence, to be who she wanted to be and not a puppet. She had always been so willing to listen to her sister, to be slave to her purpose.

And then she had turned her back on everything when she had ran away to Haven. Her life was simpler, selfish, yes, but the guilt was gone. She lived for herself, rid herself of Pen's bitterness. But it had caught up with her again.

And now it threatened Spike.

She had half-turned towards the Vampire. His blue eyes had widened in surprise, and now his gaze shifted from Jade to Penelope, seeing the resemblance. The family resemblance. It wasn't just her watcher that had done this to her, it was her sister. And Pen was doing it to Spike now too. He grunted with the exertion, his arm shaking slightly as he held the stake to his partially bare chest. Jade knew that Pen could stake him whenever she wanted, and the thought that Spike, before her, who was so alive, despite being a vampire, so full of _everything_ , could simply be dust, coating the cement. Jade had a bit of leeway, she knew it. Pen couldn't kill Spike without losing her advantage. But Pen was the one who made the sacrifices. She knew Jade wasn't. It was the thing the Slayer had proven over time and time. She had no stomach for forfeiture. She hadn't even been willing to cut Bennett loose.

"I won't," Jade spoke vehemently, catching Spike's gaze as it passed back to her. Her back to her sister, Jade stepped the few steps over to Spike, catching his wrist with her fingers. She pulled at his arm and he pulled back, an essential tug-of-war, but the stake was no longer ripping into his skin. It was on the surface, kept still by their struggling muscles.

"Don't let me staked by my own sodding hand," Spike complained, playing it off as a grumble, "Be bloody embarrassing." He was trying to be humorous, trying not to accuse her with his eyes. This was her problem, her fight, and he had been dragged into it. That wasn't right.

"I won't." Jade repeated, now a promise to him. He looked at her, those light blue eyes that could very well be filled with accusation, but nodded, a motion that indicated trust. She didn't know at what point it came to be that they trusted each other, but she felt it too. Spike was someone she could trust. One of the few.

"I forgot; there's one more option," Penelope continued. "Always had been. Room for your failure. You kill him, I kill him." Jade was so focused on pulling the stake away from Spike's chest that she barely gave Pen half an ear. She didn't expect the fist that struck at her stomach, lifting her up to the ground and causing her to crash down. Spike's fist. "Or he kills you," Pen finished, that smugness in her tone. Assuming she had concocted a lesson that Jade would finally learn from.

Spike's face was contorted into a scowl, frustrated at not being able to control his own body. Jade ached from where he had hit her, but then she saw how he had lowered the stake from his chest, holding it aggressively instead, and relief filled her. At least if she was allowed to fight him equally, she'd have a chance. Some way to break the thrall and rescue the both of them. But she also knew that Pen wouldn't let Jade waste time. If she wasn't really fighting—or really losing, Pen would finish the fight then and there. There was no room for stalling. Or Pen would let them stall all the way to sunrise, and Jade could watch Spike dust that way. No. She'd have to fight Spike until she had the opportunity to disrupt Pen. There'd be some way.

She pushed herself up from the pavement, closing her hands into fists. She cursed herself for the tiredness she still fell in her body from Clarity's kiss. She wasn't at her best, weaker and more sluggish than normal. But she was a Slayer. Stronger than a vampire, even one as old as Spike. At least, she hoped. "I'm not a pawn," Jade spoke to Pen. "Or yours to control."

"As it is," Pen spoke, untroubled. "It's not you I need to control."

Spike swung at her. He cursed under his breath, a slew of British swears as his body moved without his permission.

"Bloody hell," He muttered, as Jade caught his fist, striking at his chest to shove him back a few meters. He recovered quickly enough, his kick connecting with Jade's thigh, hard enough to send her to the ground. She caught his next kick, her hands gripping his foot and she twisted him enough that he twirled in the air before falling himself. Jade jumped to her feet, seeing her duffle bag a couple feet behind him. She had a couple throwing knives in there… a plan was starting to form. She blocked another of Spike's strikes, though she took a smack to her lip as she elbowed his cheek. She was holding back some of her strength, and Spike knew it. He also knew she wasn't at her best, so he didn't chastise her when he landed another solid blow, this one to her collarbone. Luckily, it wasn't the hand that held the stake. Jade had been focusing more on keeping the wooden stake out of her body, accepting the strength of his punches instead.

"You fought better as a potential," Pen sneered.

Jade ignored her. She had gotten quite skilled at ignoring the barbs from her ex-watcher. She had built a tough skin around herself out of necessity; the soft-hearted, younger Jade had been beaten out by Pen. Such a sensitive personality, soft-heartedness, it didn't belong in a Slayer. A lot of Jade hadn't been right for a Slayer. Pen had told her that constantly. Bennett had encouraged the opposite, that feeling wasn't a weakness.

Spike charged her, his skull slamming into her stomach and knocking the breath out of her and her to the ground. He punched her once from his position from above her, his fingers reaching for her wrists to trap her. The hand that held the stake approached her throat. At another time, the knowledge that it was his body trapping her, above her, locking her legs down with his knees would have tripped her modesty, but she knew such feelings in a time of battle were a distraction, and that this wasn't Spike. His mind, yes, the anger in his eyes at being used against his will, but hitting her, that wasn't Spike, that was all Penelope. Her head scraped against the rough asphalt, but she gathered her strength in her deceptively slim arms, shoving him off with as much might as she could manage. He didn't fly, like he might have at her full strength, but he was thrown back a few staggering meters, and Jade flipped upwards to her feet, ignoring the sting on her cheek, and the iron tang of blood from her split lip.

"Just do what you need to do, Slayer," Spike told her, his chest heaving though he had no need for air. He was back to swinging at her aggressively, and Jade was finding it harder to dodge, doing so just barely instead of with finesse. He had a disadvantage as well. She had seen him fight, and there was a slight hesitation behind each of his actions. Whether it was him fighting Penelope's possession or just the delay the spell had, he was slower than normal. Jade didn't know which disadvantage was greater, his slowness or her debility. She supposed they'd find out, but she had maneuvered herself nearer to the duffle bag. Not much further now. She just had to continue this dance.

"We'll make it out of this," Jade announced, for his ears rather than Pen's. She figured that while her sister controlled Spike's body, since he could talk, and look of his own will that she didn't control the rest of his senses.

"Bloody right we will," Spike scoffed. There had been a moment of panic in his eyes when he had held that stake digging into his chest. Some self-preservation that had jumped to the surface. It was ironic, someone that had died as many times as Spike didn't want to die again. Or perhaps it wasn't irony at all. Just a cycle he didn't want to continue; death. And as she knew it came to everyone eventually, today wasn't their day. Just a struggle, not an end. And Spike felt that now, confidence in his gaze as they fought. "Like this a bit better if this bitch wasn't calling the shots," Spike admitted, and despite the danger they were in, the lack of self-control, Jade understood what he meant.

Her heart was beating, adrenaline running rapidly through her body. She had regained her beat, her tempo, and the two of them were dancing, such was the grace in their fight. There was that elation she always felt in the midst of battle, the rush, the joy of the peril. He felt it too, she know he did. He enjoyed action, in fact, he sought it out. Soul or not, he wanted that rush. And Jade was a Slayer. She wasn't immune to that feeling, and there was something compelling about fighting Spike, the pure energy running through them both. She'd almost enjoy it. If Pen wasn't convinced that one of the fighters was going to die. Not just convinced; determined to cause it.

Yeah, it sucked out the fun a little. Jade took a punch to the face that caused her to flip in air, spinning wildly as she fell backwards. She heard Spike mutter a disgruntled, "Sloppy," at the same time as Pen's scoff.

"So clumsy," Pen jeered, and Spike's eyes narrowed, irate that he had thought the same thing as Pen. But Jade wasn't irritated in the least. Instead, she was triumphant. She had reached the duffle bag. She pulled a throwing knife from it, holding it firmly in her hand. Spike frowned a bit, at the small sleek knife in her hand, holding it the same way he held the stake. She kept her face impassive, no hint of the hope she felt pulsing in her heart. She just had to line up the shot. Pen mentioned something about Jade was taking it seriously, finally. Jade said nothing. Now she had to maneuver Spike out of the way.

He kicked her in the stomach; she punched him in the face. There was a gleam in his eyes, a feral satisfaction he was deriving from the fight, but Jade felt less and less gratification every time she saw Pen's smug face. She had to end this, not enjoy it. She couldn't get distracted. Spike's stake cut across Jade's upper arm, and her blade sliced the middle of his chest. She had to flip him, get between him and Penelope. She grasped him by the arm, leaping onto his thighs. Springing off of them, she did an upper flip, kicking him in the jaw as she flew through the air, landing a few meters away. She had done it. Instead of looking at the vampire charging at her, she landed eyes on Penelope.

"Show's over," Jade hissed and threw the blade. It glinted as it flew. It wasn't a death blow, but Pen didn't have to know that. It was Jade's hope that once it hit her sister, the pain would break Pen's concentration, and she wouldn't be able to hold up the spell.

Jade never got find out.

Pen's smug face dropped, irritation flashing across it instead. Jade felt a heavy force strike her from behind. He moved quickly, so quickly. He leaped up. Jade struggled back up to her feet, letting out a disbelieving cry at the same time Spike let out a pained roar. His eyes gleamed yellow, his fangs showed, forehead ridged. And the throwing knife was sticking out of his hand, sunk through the tissue. Spike cursed violently, Pen's smile returned.

Jade's heart sunk. Her disbelief loomed. Spike had caught it. Penelope had made him catch it. And now, he pulled it out of his crippled hand, bloodied hand barely able to close over the stake he held in it now. Spike's face contorted, the elation seeped from his expression. He had wanted it to work, and his disappointment mirrored Jade's. She was still on her knees when he came for her. What now? She really was going to have to fight him to death. Spike.

There was no way. She'd have to take the fall in this one. He was one of the few vampires without a soul, Jade was one of eighteen hundred or so Slayers. He was important to the Organization, and she avoided it. He had someone he loved dearly, and the one Jade loved had long since turned to death. And she wasn't about to stake another vampire she cared about. Spike growled as he saw her face, the hollowness. He was crossing the parking lot over to her, fury in his gaze. She rose to her feet just in time.

"Don't you be bloody giving up," he hissed at her.

"I'm so sorry," She murmured, dodging the steel of the knife as he swiped it near her neck. She punched his ribs, pushing him back with another hand to his chest.

"Don't be sorry, think of something else. Try _again_ ," Spike was urging her. "I don't care if I'm a damned piñata. One'll get through." He was more optimistic than she was. She took another punch to the face, staggering back. This one had the slice of the knife accompanying it, a long scratch on her cheek. It was no worse than the cuts they had sustained from the hell dimension, that had disappeared to light scratches on both he and Jade, nearly healed. Well, now that was layered under a new swath of bruises that both of their pale skins were displaying. And it was about to get much worse. She kicked Spike's hip, forcing the side of him to swivel back, but his other arm caught around her leg, holding her still, bringing the stake down on her trapped thigh. She hopped up with her free arm, twisting her entire weight, so that the stake slipped harmlessly off of her jeans, and the two of them tumbled to the concrete. She knew she couldn't afford hesitation, so she struck him across the face before he could slip the knife in her back.

She rolled away, feeling the material of the duffle bag across her forearms as she laid upon it. Quickly, she reached in, her fingers skimming over the knives. Try again, Spike had said. But it wouldn't work. Adaptability. Damn it, try something else. Something better. Her fingers felt something hard and solid. Her skin pricked. Or something desperate. She retrieved the small object from the duffle bag, rolling away again as she felt Spike strike the ground next to where she had been a second ago. His eyes searched hers, looking apparently frustrated that she hadn't snatched another dagger from the mix. But she shifted her body, flipping open the object she _had_ managed to snag. Her phone. Charged up and ready to go, for once. But she didn't have time to look at the buttons, or press any, because Spike was flinging himself at her again. She was in a hard position, trying to keep Pen from seeing that she had something in her hand, and trying to get a damn call off and hold her own against Spike.

She punched him, hard in the chest, with her free hand, keeping her upper torso away from his armed hands, but leaving herself vulnerable to a kick from him that sent her falling backwards. Her torso turned away from Pen, she set to work. Contacts. Why in the hell had she not set up speed dial? She heard Spike's feet drag across the contact. Christ, why couldn't Lyth's name start with an a. Jade's mind was shot, her fingers trembling as she tapped desperately at the buttons. Finally, there it was. Lyth. She clicked. Call. She heard Spike's warning, "Jade!" About to tap down, she cried out in pain, feeling the throwing dagger slip through her skin, under her right shoulder blade. It sunk into her flesh, brought down by Spike's vampire flesh. Gritting her teeth, she clicked the button, hearing the dull tone of the ringing. It was on, thank god. Lyth's phone was on. Now only if she answered it and thought something of it, and decided to do some detecting. If only. It was likely Lyth would ignore it out of spite, Jade's punishment for leaving. And even if she didn't, what could she do to help anything.

She felt the blade be pulled from her body, and she flipped wearily over onto her back, her body aching from the wound. There was Spike, towering over her, bloodied knife in one hand, stake in one bloodied hand. She reacted too slow, he crouched over her and brought both the weapons down. Her arms shot up, catching both of his wrists in her own, keeping them from her. His legs were trapping hers again, and they stared at each other, arms trembling in the effort.

"Had about enough of this running around, as amusing as it has been," Penelope's voice broke through their silent stares. "Enough stalling, Jade. I told you you had a choice. This is it." Jade's eyes widened as suddenly, Spike wasn't bearing down on her with his stake, drawing back up towards his chest. Her pressure changed on him instantly. Instead of keeping his stake hand away from her, she was trying to keep it from being plunged into his chest. With her distraction, the throwing knife hand sunk closer, the blade pressed to her neck, the sharp edge cutting through and sending a trickle of blood down her neck. Jade grunted with the effort. One hand to keep Spike from killing himself, the other to keep him from killing her. They were at an impasse, and it depended on her strength. No, not her strength. Her choice.

Him or her.


	34. Chapter 33

**33**

He hadn't fought a Slayer in a hell of a long time. He had missed this, hitting back and getting hit for all he was worth. The aerobatics, the pure violence. Jade moved like any other Slayer, graceful and strong, so strong. A perfectly challenging opponent. Sure, Buffy had gotten him to spar with the new recruits a time or two, but that wasn't full-fledged, fighting for his life, to the death ecstasy, it was a 'well, that blow was bloody sloppy, let's not bore me to yet another death' sparring match. And then there was Dana, two years ago now, and _that_ was a bone-chilling experience to remember. He was ashamed to admit it, but he still had dreams about it. Nightmares, really. Losing his hands to that crazy Slayer, that had traumatized him a bit. One of the first times he realised that he could be immortal and be useless. What would he be without his hands? Bloody useless. And one thing Spike couldn't stand was being that.

Like he was right now. Not useless, as much as helpless. He had a bit of fun at first, though it wasn't really him, his body going through the motions, but not responding to his own desires. Some of it seemed like a move he'd do, all strength and fury. But it wasn't him. And beating the crap out of this particular Slayer didn't fill him with any sort of glee. She was looking at him like a hurt puppy, not from him punching her, but the guilt that rose up in her eyes every time she got a good hit off. He was still stuck in the mentor zone a bit. Wanting to tell her to stop moping and enjoy the fact that she had bruised him. And the way she fought, it was carefully controlled. Not let all loose, not all she had. She hit him to keep him off-balance, or to shove him away. She swathed herself with defense and masked it as aggression. It was all she could do. This was no friendly sparring match. They weren't supposed to get out of this. It wasn't fun, it was a punishment, doled out to Jade by her bloody sister.

Sister. Jade had left that part out. He got how dickish the Watchers could be, especially from the old council, but being betrayed by her family, the pieces were falling into place piece by piece. And she kept looking at her sister like a brutalized little—puppy analogy again—dog, beaten up and still wanting approval. Wanting the happy ending, but Spike knew the 'dark side'. Evil wasn't so black and white, but he could see the darkness in someone. This wasn't something that was warm and fuzzy, Jade and her going to hug and make up when this was all over. Someone was going to be dust, or someone was going to be a pool of blood. There was no good here. Jade fought him like she was delaying, mind distracted, and she had been _damn_ close with that knife trick. He was surprised by her determination, that she had hucked that blade without a second thought. No hesitation where it counted, she would have fought her sister to get them out of this. Good. Loyalty to one's family was one thing, but getting pummelled to pieces by someone who was supposed to love and take care of you, no. He bloody wanted Jade to fight back, hard. No more mercy for the woman who had plenty of chances. Not only had the watcher betrayed her Slayer, the sister had betrayed her family. And Jade had nearly gotten her, ended this damn thing.

Until Spike the bloody puppet had thrown himself after it and caught it with his _hand_ , and not the graceful fingers catch it out of the air kind of catch. It had gone through his hand like a bloody spike—ha—sticking through it until he had picked it out himself. Now his own blood was splattering the cement, and he'd still been thrown at Jade, whose defense had more and more holes in it. She was tired, he knew that. She could see her sluggish movements, the slowness that wasn't right for a Slayer. Bloody demon bitch, that kiss of death was going to do one of them in. What disturbed him the most was the lack of determination in her blue eyes. Or rather, the perverse of it. She was no longer glancing at her sister every chance she got, her expression was remorseful. No, no, she was not going bloody death wish Slayer on his watch. He wasn't killing her because some witch in a wheelchair demanded it, a ponce Watcher from a pathetic organization. Thought she was all that because she could control the dead, did she? Spike was right sure that she wasn't going to get away with this. And the damn knife thing almost worked. Nothing to keep Jade from trying. It wasn't as if the metal could kill him, there was no wood in it. As long as it didn't cut off his head, he could take each dagger shot that she tried. All they needed was one to get through.

And she had had another chance, Jade, but hadn't even grabbed a single blade. He was bloody pissed at her, negating a chance like that, until he heard the beep of a mobile. So that was her desperate plan. It was worth a try. He didn't know who she'd try to call or if they could even do anything, but maybe it was best to have some outside help. As much as he'd like to duke it out himself, there was no doubt that they were in danger. Made all the more evident by the fact that he kept advancing towards her as she urgently tried to dial. He tried to warn her, but she didn't react in time, and he plunged the knife into her back, swearing as he did so. It didn't hit anything important, the blade through the heart would have killed _her_ , but it wasn't a light nick. He was made to twist the handle before dragging it out. Then she was flipped, facing him, and instead of trying to force both the weapons into her body, he felt his wrist twist around, the stake back at his heart. And Jade, quickly shifting her weight, struggling to keep both his hands from reaching their targets. She was trapped under his legs, but couldn't roll herself out from underneath like last time. If she did, it was likely that her arms would slip, and either the stake or the knife would find home.

So they stared at each other, depending on Jade's strength. Sweat rolled down her forehead. Her lips were in a flat line, a thick cut on her bottom lip. Her teeth were grit. He could feel the tremors of her body underneath him, the shaking in her arms. And then his vampire ears could hear, after a few seconds, a quiet and irritated, "Hello? Jade is this one of those sitting cushion dials you told me about, if that's the case…"

It was that damn demon roommate of Jade's. Spike didn't trust that pretentious, soulless bitch at all, but Jade had always trusted her for some reason, so it was Spike's turn. Hell, they were running out of options. And time. He felt the stake slip into his skin, scoring against the bloody mark from earlier. His blood dripped onto Jade's exposed shirt, and saw more blood run from her throat onto the ground. Now it was time for some flawless acting.

"This was your brilliant plan, then? Have us fighting to death in the parking lot?" Spike shouted, trying to sound angry. It wasn't hard. He was being used, like a bloody puppet, and he did not like it. "Helpless to your bloody magics? Have us kill each other, that get you off?" Take the bloody hint, demon. Spike silently urged the woman on the other side of the phone. And be able to do something about it. Jade was slipping. She didn't even say anything, so focused she was on keeping the both of them alive.

"The plan was for my sister to be the Slayer. But she's too weak. Fraternizing with your kind, instead of killing them."

"I'm just overly sexy. Nothin' to do with the rest of my 'kind," Spike hadn't heard anything from the phone. Bloody hell, where had the woman gone? Maybe she was laughing to herself, the roommate was. Maybe she just didn't give a damn. Bloody likely. "Hotter than that friend you got over there. Dig him out of a graveyard, did you? Oh, I guess not on your own, then," Spike jeered. So if he _was_ going to die, he'd be an asshole to the end. The stake gashed against his skin, digging in deeper. But he saw that Jade's dagger hand was faltering more, her elbow bent as far as it would go. Her wrist shook as the cut on her neck became more ugly. Her eyes were half-lidded, no longer focused on his face, everything funnelled into her strength. He was bearing down on her more and more. "Bloody hang in there, woman," He muttered at her. She didn't even nod, though her eyes shifted just enough to let him know she heard him.

"You vampires are a scourge," the watcher said, the normal big bad monologue that Spike had no interest in. She wouldn't let him turn his head, so he couldn't even glare at her, still staring down at Jade. Her pale face was red with effort. "And any Slayers that show you clemency are the same."

"How new age of you," Spike sneered at her. "Should be in your speech when you run for head religious nut job. It'll be a hit."

"Spike," Jade murmured. Blood was running freely down her neck, the blade shifting cruelly across the open wound.

"Don't talk," He warned her. She closed her mouth, lips trembling. "Give me a bit of trust, here." Trust to do what, exactly? His plan consisted of stalling and pissing off the one that controlled his body. Everything hindered on a single phone call. Brilliant plan. Not that Spike was one for planning himself. Usually, the chance it could go wrong was all part of the fun. Now, it was just stressful. She didn't nod, couldn't risk moving her neck under that blade, but her eyelids raised enough, her eyes catching his. A trusting stare. He didn't know if he deserved it. Hadn't done anything but put her in trouble, had he? Come here, pulled her into the Doc thing. Almost got her killed then. Then pulled her along with him to San Francisco, or had been about to. Now this watcher-family bad blood thing wasn't his fault, but there was the fact that she didn't want to hurt him, something he figured she'd get over if it had been another vampire. But no, she didn't want to kill him because he had a soul. To her, he was the same as a human. If Buffy could just thing like that… but no, he couldn't think of the blonde right now. The fact that Jade did think like that was the reason that they were in this situation, that Jade hadn't just ended him already. That she was thinking of letting that knife slip. And it would be bloody stupid to do so.

"I bet you want a taste, don't you?" The ex-watcher bitch continued. "All that blood. From her neck too. Must be appetizing to you. I could give you a little taste. Reward for being a good henchman."

"Rather not," Spike lied. Yeah, he could smell the blood. See the blood. Almost taste it. He remembered the last tantalizing gulp he had had, the first time he had ever met Jade. It teased him. But his vamp face had returned back to his human one, since they had begun this close weapon-to-weakness battle, and he kept it that way. It was one of the few things that the watcher couldn't control about him, and he wasn't about to give himself more strength. The stake scraped against bone and he shuddered. The same happened to Jade, a dazed look in her eyes. She had such slim, pronounced bones in her slender neck, and they were sliding against the knife. She had relaxed herself as much as possible, but the tensing in her arms to struggle against him just made her bones stand out more. Maybe they'd both die here. Maybe it was time for the over a hundred and fifty year old vampire to die, this time for good. Maybe that was okay. But looking at Jade, it didn't seem right. She was a Slayer, short life was in the job description. But it wasn't fair. And this Slayer wouldn't have witchy friends to bring her back.

No, she had something else.

"What was this nonsense about a fight in a parking lot?" A voice sounded, almost out of air, not even a pop to announce her presence. Spike chuckled in relief, and Jade's eyes flew open. It was Lyth'ial, or whatever the hell her name was. Spike could have hugged the demon.

Instead, he shouted, "The woman. She's controlling us." He didn't mention that it was just him. Didn't have time, didn't waste the breath. Later, he would wish that he had explained a bit more. Jade couldn't speak, not yet. But she could watch, and so could Spike, in his peripherals. He saw Lyth teleport once more. The logical processes in her brain. Stop the woman from casting the spell. Easy enough. Then he saw Jade's face contort, as she had twisted her face—an act of desperation to glance at the action easier. "No!" Jade cried out as Spike heard a distinctive crack. He knew that sound. Was the cause of it many times in his long unlife. He knew what happened as soon as he—with great relief—felt his body move of his own volition. No longer struggling against Jade, the Slayer was able to throw him off of her, the weapons that would have killed them clattering harmlessly to the ground, still covered in their blood. Spike picked himself up from where he had rolled on the asphalt, seeing Jade flutter over to her sister.

Her dead sister. The ex-watcher's neck was at a wrong angle, and the demon was standing, satisfied behind her, from where she had easily and quickly killed the human. There was no remorse on her face, or regret. Just triumph. Spike would have understood that once. She didn't see what she had done wrong. It was just a human. A bad human. The world was none the worse for having her dead. But Spike knew Jade thought differently. Jade was so human, compassionate in all the vulnerable ways. She hadn't been able to kill her sister before, though she had punished her, and now, even though her life's blood had been seeping from her neck, she approached the dead woman's body as if it were a wounded animal. Drawn near to help, but unsure of what she should do.

"Don't smother me with thanks or anything," Lyth said, clearly miffed that Jade wasn't responding the way she had expected. The Mok'tagar demon kicked at the lifeless zombie corpse that Penelope had been controlling, same way she had controlled Spike. Spike's anger at being used flared out when he saw Jade reached for the dead woman, softly stroking her cheek. Lyth rolled her eyes, irate. "I said—" she began to snap again, irritated at being ignored when Jade's quiet voice split the air.

"Thank you." The Slayer said.

"That's better," Lyth sniffed. "I didn't have to save your butt. I was about to be ready to go out. When that vampire of yours started yelling over the phone, all obscure. But I figured it out, didn't I? Saved you. That's what, the second time? What are you so upset over," Lyth said, finally seeing the expression on Jade's face. Spike saw it himself, as he approached the Slayer slowly and carefully. In his experience, the other Slayer he knew had a hard time accepting death of her loved ones. Buffy. She'd withdraw and lash out. Jade was definitely doing the withdrawn part, her expression impassive, doing everything she could to keep those tears from gathering at her eyes. But he could hear her breath, how uneven it was, as if she was holding back a sob. The soulless Spike wouldn't understand. From what it sounded, her Watcher had abused her, emotionally, mentally. Maybe even physically. Maneuvered to ruin her life, and tried to kill her again now. But she was family. There was that bond that wasn't supposed to break. Hell, even after losing his damn soul, Spike still cared about his mum. He understood that, and was all the strange for it. Angelus had slaughtered his whole family, no remorse, but Spike had tried to take his mum with him. And if he still had his soul, despite the way she reacted to him, he probably wouldn't have killed her. Probably would have kept fighting for her, twisted or not.

"Nothing. Just an old adversary," Jade was lying. He could tell. Acting all composed in front of the demon. He had figured the relationship between them out a bit. They lived together, beneficial, but they weren't friends. The demon didn't have a soul, she wasn't exactly someone to trust, and Jade was smart enough to keep her at a distance. Thankfully, she was also smart enough to get the demon to kill her rather than not give a damn. Props for that. "Thought I'd end it myself. Thanks, Lyth. You saved us."

"Mostly deliberate," Lyth spoke, though her eyes flickered to Spike, who raised his chin, undeterred. He was about to snap at the demon, that she had killed Jade's sister, the stupid bint, but Jade had raised her face to his, as if guessing what he had been thinking. Her eyes were pleading him to be quiet. Whatever. He'd still like to knock that bitch down a peg or two, though she had saved them. He touched his bleeding chest. He'd come awfully close to being dust. He'd give her a pass, for now. "Is that it, then? Or are you going to need another rescue before you leave? I mean, while I'm dishing out favors upon favors…" Lyth said, her hands on her hips, blinking her long lashed eyes. She would be stunning, maybe if she shut that gob of hers for a second and just stood there.

"I appreciate it. Next time you want a couple rings from Syeira, let me know. I'll pay the bill," Jade said, still appeasing, still quiet.

"Like you can pay me off, oh who am I kidding," Lyth smiled, that shallow appeal to her loyalty working. Again, it reminded Spike of Anya, the vengeance demon. Still, didn't make him any more affectionate towards this demon. She wasn't the same. Annoying, but not inherently good. After another aloof goodbye, not even realising how close her roommate was to the brink of emotional turmoil, she popped away, teleporting out of view, and he and Jade were left in the parking lot with a decomposing zombie and a dead sister.

Spike had been quiet for quite a while. Wasn't like him at all. And now, as he stepped up to Jade's side, her head snapped towards him, eyes wide and vulnerable. Reminded him a bit of Buffy at that moment. That little crack in her tough skin. That struggling to stay together. Yeah, he had seen that in Buffy plenty of times. Sometimes he could snap a barb at the blonde, and she'd heal up her crack right quick, or land a swift punch on his face to make her feel better. Yeah, it wasn't the therapy suggested by most psychologists, but it had worked on Buffy. Bit of violence made her feel better, barbs made her defensive. But Jade was different. Wasn't so quick with the quips and the insults, didn't like hitting him to feel better. Didn't like hitting him at all. Fighting with her, she looked like someone had been jabbing quills into her skin.

"Do we have time… to bury her?" Jade asked. Lord. Her sister had really done a number on her. Stripped all the years away, like Jade was a little child about to break, not a strong Slayer who couldn't be broken by anything.

""Course." Spike said.

It wasn't under a marked grave, just a large tree. Their bikes were parked under it. They leaned their used shovels against the bark. They had burned the decomposing zombie corpse, but Jade's sister, they buried. And Spike didn't so much as make one gibe. He had been good and quiet, little remarks that hadn't made her smile, so he had stopped. And now they stood. He knew they were wasting night time.

"Better head out, Slayer." He spoke, and she nodded without resistance. She hadn't said anything since she had laid the body in the ground, covering her up as quickly as they had dug the grave.

"Can we get there before the sun rises?" She asked, looking guilty. Bloody hell, what was she looking guilty for. Not as if she had decided to have this damn detour. If it took another day to get back, what of it. Buffy hadn't given Spike a timeline and they were late. And even if she had, screw it. They'd crash at a hotel if they had to, wait out the day. Jade was worse for wear. They both were, covered in aches and bruises, though they were healing quickly enough. Jade had hurriedly bandaged her neck, by far the worst wound she had received. And she had thrown herself into the digging too, despite the knife wound in her back. Hadn't held back or said a word. He didn't like it. She was always quiet, but now she was pulled a bit too deep into herself. No joy, there. Just a bit of a shell.

"We'll give it a go." They stepped over to their bikes, and then Spike shook his head. "I'll lock up my bike. We'll take yours 'stead."

Jade didn't say anything, confusion in her blue gaze, a frown on her forehead. She opened her mouth to question him, and he shook his head with exasperation.

"You're falling off your bloody feet. We got quite a few hours to go, and I'm not rescuing you if you drive off into a ditch." Okay, that was a lie, but still, no need to take any risks, not right now. She was exhausted and bloody depressed, and she needed something to take her mind off it. Least she could nap if she was on his motorcycle. Least he'd be there if she wanted to say something. Putting her alone on her motorcycle where she had nothing but her own mind for company was a bad idea. "Come on, Slayer." Spike said, impatient, abrasive. But she nodded.

"Alright," Jade said, still slightly dazed and perplexed. Spike locked up his bike, next to the tree, looking at it a bit longingly. No reason to, he could get another one. Nice bike, though. Faithful. Didn't think Jade would be as willing to give up hers. He started up the thing and Jade settled in behind him, wrapping her arms carefully around his mid-section, not too tightly. He had a few bruises there from her Slayer strength. Her helmet pressed into his shoulder blades as she leaned forward, into him. They were good to go. Without a look back at the tree where they buried the Slayer's bitch of a sister, the ex-watcher, Spike took off. To San Francisco, then.


	35. Chapter 34

**34**

She was trying not to feel sorry for herself. Couldn't really feel that sorry at all. Jade wished she could shed a few tears for her sister, but none would come. All she felt was liberation, and it twisted inside her like a serrated blade. She and Spike had lived. She was utterly relieved. She thought she could die, give in, but she had kept struggling with everything she had. Desperation had surged through her, and an overwhelming urge to live. She hadn't done anything yet. Hadn't fought any great battles, hadn't done anything momentous. She wasn't done. She didn't want to be insignificant, one Slayer out of many, just another who died too soon. But she had won this round. Or, Lyth had won it for her. Popping in like a savior, snapping her sister's neck like a twig. It was wrong, taking a human life. Wrong that Jade was relieved. No longer having to worry about watching her back. Freedom, is that was this was? Pen was the reason she had come to Haven in the first place, so she could hide, so she wouldn't be found. And now she could go anywhere. Go freely with the Vampire she had almost staked.

And he was being so kind to her, like she suffered some mass trauma. She felt guilt. Guilt she felt so free. Her sister had tormented her for so long, made Jade think she deserved it. All Pen had done to her, her old sister always had some reasoning to make Jade believe her, whatever she said. Her claws were deep, sinking underneath Jade's skin. Still affecting her, even now. But she had buried her. Give her a chance for real closure. No more worries about Pen coming back after her. Free. She tried to breathe in the feeling, rejoice in it. Not to dwell in it.

She moved her neck and winced. God, it hurt. It wasn't a clean cut, the blade cutting and cutting from Jade's trembling hand trying to keep it sinking any deeper. Thankfully it wasn't deep. A bit further, Jade would have bled out real fast, further than that and she wouldn't be here on the back of the motorcycle with Spike. She rested her head against him. She was tired. Weariness weighed down her bones like molasses. And they had wasted so much time. Sunrise was only a couple hours away. They'd have to stow away at some hotel for the day, waste another day. But Spike wasn't complaining about it, so there was no point in feeling bad. Rest would be good. She ached all over. She felt Spike inadvertently wince if she tightened her grip at all, knowing she had done some damage to his ribs. But he'd heal too. They hadn't been hurt so much they couldn't recover. This guilt could go away.

Rock music played on the radio. Spike was silent, humming along to a Sid Vicious song.

"I'm so—" Jade started to shout after a length of time of silence, having to speak up so her voice would carry over the roar of the engine and the music. Spike thumbed the radio down as he interrupted her.

"Don't say you're sorry, Bloody Mary," He shouted back. "Guilt's going to bog you down, and no reason for it to. It's over. We're both alive. No foul. No apologies."

"Well, there goes my speech," Jade tried for a sarcastic remark, because all the next words that came to mind were more apologies. She felt as if she hadn't gotten to explain enough. She was sorry that they had been put in that position. Sorry that she had hit him so hard, that she had delayed him. But he was right. It was guilt speaking, and she only wanted to apologize to make herself feel better. It was harder to simply let it go, but he wasn't one for a heartfelt explanation, all full of sorries and sobs. Didn't dwell, just moved on. Good advice.

"Bet it was bollocks anyway," Spike retorted, the careful balance of mockery that wasn't vindictive. She didn't mind. That was how Spike was, full of quips and English terms she didn't always grasp the meanings of, but she was starting to. And he didn't dwell on things, at least the things he didn't deem important. Killer sister, obviously not something that ranked in his 'going to hold a grudge for this' list. Which meant it shouldn't list high on hers either.

"It was going to end with me offering to buy you some blood," Jade spoke, surprised by the smile that played on her lips. That was it. Move past it, move on. Dwelling was bad.

"Well in that case, grovel away," Spike replied with a languid smirk.

They were only about an hour away from San Francisco when the sun started coming up. She blinked groggily, lifting her head from where it had been resting on Spike's shoulder. She was surprised she had managed sleep, although it hadn't been for long. But she had been exhausted, so even the jostling of the bike and the roar of the engine hadn't deterred her. Her body was achey, but that was a good sign. It was healing. Her throat was still remarkably sensitive, an ugly scab that she felt under her prodding fingers, but it wasn't bleeding outright. Her shoulder blade throbbed, but it was her arms that were also stiff from holding onto Spike's torso for so long. She was close enough to hear his muted curse of "Bugger," as he veered sharply onto the next off-ramp.

"Gotta find a roof," Spike yelled over his shoulder at her. "Or else this motorcycle is going to roll into San Francisco piloted by a smoking pile of ash."

Just an hour or so. If she hadn't insisted on burying her sister, they probably might have made it. Close, but at least into the city, where they could walk in the shadows or find the sewers. But no, they were out on the freeway, and the sun was rapidly coming up. But what else could she have done about it, leave her sister on the pavement to rot? Spike drove up to a dingy looking hotel. Jade's stomach growled as she saw it didn't have a restaurant attached, or anything but a large parking lot that held a few big trucks. But that didn't matter. She didn't have to stay inside during the day, that was just Spike's disadvantage. She could find something to eat later. They parked their vehicle, Spike starting to sizzle as they came inside. It was an odd time to check into a hotel, for the day instead of the night, but there was a room with two beds, so Spike and Jade paid for it without complaint. Thankfully, the hotel was all one building, and Spike didn't have to play dart-across-the-parking-lot-before-you-catch-fire game.

Jade threw her duffle bag on the bed closest to the window, stepping over to it to close the shades, halting the rays from creeping their way any further across the room. Spike, who had stopped to avoid the sun. He nodded. "Much obliged," He spoke, which would have sounded formal except that it came from him. He looked critically at the bed left to him. "Not exactly five stars," Spike muttered, kicking his boots off and leaping onto the bed. It squeaked disapprovingly, but held just fine. The vampire didn't seem overly bothered by the disarray, just noting that it wasn't top dollar. Which was fine with Jade, she could handle being a dump, at least it wouldn't maim her pocketbook. It had a bathroom with a shower—and a fridge, that Spike had asked for. "Oh, right," Spike muttered, jumping back up to chuck a couple jars of blood into the fridge, keeping one to slurp on. Jade sat on the opposite bed, pulling a couple bandages from her duffle bag. Spike watched her out of the corner of his eye as she winced, pulling the dried blood bandage from her neck.

"Bit nasty," He observed. There was a flicker of something in his eye, and Jade wondered why it looked a bit like guilt. He had no reason to feel any at all. But then she remembered it was his body that Pen had used, and that in his eyes, he was very well the one that had been trying to cut her throat with that blade.

"Had worse," Jade returned, making sure to keep her face impassive now, even at the sting of an antiseptic. She looked at Spike, who was considerably still on his bed, chest like stone, not moving. Perfectly relaxed, she supposed, though it would be hard as hell to hold her body as still as that. Human and all.

"So, what's the deal with sister-watcher?" Spike asked, obviously deciding the time for tact was over. Jade wasn't affronted. She wasn't a sullen teenager, or needing time to grieve. He had well enough reason to ask. It had been her trouble and he had gotten swept up in it. So even if it was hard to talk about, she owed him some honesty at least. Yeah, her throat was sore from the blade scoring across it, but she could see the tear in his shirt from where the stake had dug in, far too close to home.

"It's a long story," Jade warned. Spike shrugged, taking another sip of his blood, a red coating on his bottom lip, which he promptly licked up with his tongue. The movement was casual, natural to him, though Jade found her eyes were drawn to the action a little too closely. Spike didn't notice, shrugging a shoulder.

"Got plenty of time," He spoke evenly, no criticism in his tone, just an expectation.

"Right. Uhm. I guess I'll start from the beginning. My mother, she's a witch, nothing overly extensive, just a bit of dabble in her younger days. She left it behind eventually, but she knew a seer who told her her daughter would be, like this important figure. Save the world or something," Jade always glossed over this part, feeling that if she listed all the details it would be a bit too narcissistic. Besides, she didn't hold that much faith in prophecy. That had been the reason for all of this, at least the first drop of water to start a flood. Damning prophecy from some loose vision. "So my mom, she took it very to heart. She got married, pretty normal guy, and they had a child. Just the one, when she was thirty one. My sister, Penelope Walker. So my mom, thinking of this prophecy, did everything for Pen. Spoiled her rotten. Gave her magic lessons, any fighting class she asked for, ponies, even. My mom's family was pretty well off. They had the money to do it, so they did. And my sister, all she wanted was mom's full attention, which she got, in spades. Mom made her think she was this great hero, and Pen took it to heart. She was so dedicated. She wasn't really that great in magic, like could handle some things, but nothing special. And she was just a human, normal strength, normal speed. But this prophecy," Jade's voice took on a sneer, "And my mom's enthusiasm, made her believe all her young life that she was going to be this great hero. That was all she wanted."

Jade kicked off her own boots, her fingers twisting anxiously through her hair. She hadn't told this story for a long time. Didn't even know if she had told it all. Bennett had always been there, it just seemed like he always knew everything she did. She braided her hair as she sat, glancing over at Spike. At least he wasn't asleep. And he was quiet, without commenting that she was boring, or yawning. He was listening, and that encouraged her.

"My dad got cancer, terminally. They knew he only had a couple months. So somewhere along in there, my mom got pregnant. With me. She was a few months shy off of forty four. Hadn't really been expecting another child, had tried a couple times right after Pen, but they were miscarriages. I was born a little after my sister's fourteenth birthday, and a couple weeks before my dad passed away." She remembered him only in pictures, and called him dad so that it wouldn't be confusing to Spike, but the word didn't mean much to her. "Mom went and saw another seer, learned that I was a potential Slayer. She Shipped my sister off to a watcher school in England before I was even out of diapers. Mom wanted her to be useful, and if she wasn't the one in the prophecy, then she would help train one. All the focus shifted to me, then. Luckily, mom had learned a bit from her mistakes with Pen. Wasn't so hands-on with me. Pen graduated the school, university. When I was about ten, she took over as my Watcher. We were never close. I really didn't see her until she moved back here. And she had spent plenty of her life without me. And I think she was bitter. She had all of mom's love, uncontested, for so long, and mom… just shook her off. Sent her on her way as sure as she figured it wasn't her. No nothing, just 'come back here when you're useful. It was hard on her."

"Sounds like you feel sorry for your sis," Spike observed, his expression impassive. Jade nodded, letting her braid rest on her shoulder.

"I can see why she hated me. Why she got so twisted up with jealousy. And the fact that I wasn't perfect just made it worse. She had an idea of what a hero should be, a slayer should be, and I was far from that. She was disgusted with me. And it just grew worse. Then I became a Slayer a couple days before my birthday, a little after my graduation. I guess she figured that was it, as soon as I was a Slayer, there was no chance she could still be this visualized hero. That it had to be me. She just got worse after that." Killed Bennett. Increased the maliciousness of the training practices she would subject Jade to. "And you know the rest," Jade finished.

"So," Spike spoke, a contemplative expression on his face. The sleekness of his pronounced cheekbone was prominent, his scarred eyebrow arched. It was hard to take Jade's eyes off of him when made expressions like that, that were so normal to him, but breathtakingly beautiful, somehow. "You some big hero, then?" His tone was skeptical, mocking even. She shook her head, a nonchalant shrug.

"I don't believe in prophecies." Jade said, and saw something cross Spike's face. The vampire turned away from her then, laying on his back on the bed, looking up to the ceiling.

"I believed in one, once." Spike spoke, the mockery gone from his voice, a quiet seriousness remaining. Jade leaned forward with curiosity. She was relieved to have the conversation shifted from her sister, and focused back on him. She didn't want to think about her sister any more, the pain, the anger and bitterness. "Turned out to be bollocks, but I really believed it. Codswallop 'bout a vampire with a soul, play a role in the apocalypse, get turned into a human. Thought it was my destiny," He scoffed a bit.

"And it didn't come true?" Jade spoke. Obviously. It was a dumb question. But she meant it when she said she didn't believe in prophecies. They were so damn obscure, so many hidden meanings. Just trying to interpret them gave her a headache, and they could twist it all in the wrong direction just by someone taking the wrong interpretation from it.

"No. Not yet. Maybe not even to me. Not the only vampire with a soul. There's one more. He's a git. But if it's for anyone, it's probably for him. Got the whole redemption arc going for him, hero in the shadows sort of things. Doesn't matter anymore." Spike finished off his jar of blood and let it roll on the floor. He had dismissed the notion, seeming a bit embarrassed he had even brought it up.

"There's another vampire with a soul?" Jade asked after a minute of silence, and Spike groaned.

"Shouldn't have brought him up. Yes. But before you say anything, we're nothing alike. Not a bit. Anyone bring up similarities between us, you shut them right down."

"I'm not going to… meet him, am I?" Jade asked, as if Spike assumed she'd have the chance to compare them side-by-side herself.

"Don't know. Willow wanted us to come for a gathering of the minds, figure out what's going on with the poofing Slayers. Mr. Big Forehead might show up. You'll see who. Dresses in all black. Broody. Spiky black hair. And he's a arsehole. Things to remember."

"Is it serious, then? These Slayers disappearing?"

"Makes a bit of a mark, yeah. These aren't helpless bints. As you well know."

Jade took it as a compliment. Spike closed his eyes for a moment, then they flickered open as he looked back at her. "Should get some sleep while we're here."

Jade shrugged. "I slept a bit on the motorcycle."

"You're still weak from that demon snogging," Spike said insolently. "Felt it in the fight. You were slower. Not as strong."

Jade's irritation flared, even knowing that he was teasing her, prodding the bear to gauge a reaction. "You were slow too."

"True. Not my best. Maybe sometime you'll see it," There was a challenge glinting in his eyes. Jade found her lips tugging into the lightest of smirks.

"Are you saying you want to have a sparring match?" She asked. She wasn't surprised. Spike heralded from challenge. He seemed to love the fight, the danger, the pain. And she had to admit, she was curious. In a fair fight, who'd win, her or Spike? Though she highly doubted the white-haired vampire _would_ fight completely fair, the concept intrigued her. That curiosity nagging at her. She didn't want to hurt Spike, but he let her see the fun in things.

"Oh we will. Someday." Spike smirked, satisfied by the answering challenge in Jade's eyes. After that, there was silence, as the two of them tried to get some rest. Jade managed a couple hours before she woke. She glanced over at the other bed, where the still Vampire laid slumbering. He was on his side, turned away from her. His duster was on the floor, but he must have still been wearing his jeans. Jade hadn't dressed down either, except for her own jacket, which she had slipped off. They had avoided any possible awkwardness about sharing the room by ignoring the subject completely. It made sense to stick together, and while there was something out there snatching Slayers, Jade figured it wasn't too wise to go far by herself. Plus, she felt comfort knowing that Spike was nearby, that he was comfortable enough with her to do so. Pushing herself off up the bed, Jade took the time to have a shower. She wondered if she'd ever have a shower again that didn't revolve washing blood off of her skin from lacerations and gashes and scraps. But the rest of her body was healing, barely traceable cuts left on her skin from the demon dimension. The bruises from fighting Spike were fading easily, leaving a softer print on her pale skin. She stepped in front of the mirror, wiping away the steam.

Large blue eyes stared back, vibrant enough, but tired. No longer dim, as she had been for so long. Yes, she was drained, and exhausted, but she hadn't felt this alive in far too long. She needed a purpose, and here it was. To do some good while she was alive. She drew her long, nearly black hair into a bun, droplets of water falling down her neck. She glanced once more at her throat, forcing herself to look at the ugly gash. Close, but not close enough.

She was dressed, sitting out on their patio as the sun set, smoking a cigarette. The sun was warm on her skin, a light glowy feeling, enough to lull her eyes closed again. She relaxed, slowly. Forced away all thoughts, ones of the missing Slayers, Lyth's questionable loyalty, Eddie and Henry, Penelope. And Spike. Except the thoughts about the white-haired vampire were harder to cleanse, sticking to her. In the short time since she had met him, how many times had they nearly been killed? She had lost count. She had saved him, he had saved her, and they had saved each other. Safe was obviously not in their repertoire. Perhaps that should give her cause to stay away from him, but it only enticed her more. The danger, the blood pounding in her ears. The vampire's strange allure. He was callous, uncaring. Apathetic and distant, but he was also elation and energy. He seemed fearless. Jade envied that. She had thought she didn't care about anything after Bennett's death and Pen's betrayal. But as close as they had been to death, she still hadn't fallen to it yet. There was still enough to live for, and that was good.

She heard the sliding of the glass door, Spike standing in the door way but not crossing out on the patio with her. There was still enough sun light to deter her. He patted his pockets, looking for something, and she offered him a cigarette.

"Cheers," He muttered in thanks, accepting it between his black chipped nails. She leaned from where she sat in the chair, flicking her lighter as he leaned in, his lips holding the cigarette. He was close, quietly so, and she made the mistake of glancing at his eyes, so when he looked at her, he caught her gaze. She felt her cheeks heat up. Damn this blush. It made playing it off as casual so much harder. And there was no need to blush. It was lighting a man's cigarette. Except the man in question was Spike, who managed to make everything seem sexier and more intimate just by being himself. The man oozed sexual appeal, and it was damn hard to ignore. His eyes lit, but he seemed to decide against calling her out, straightening back up into the shadows of their room. She lit another, and they smoked in silence. But it wasn't an awkward silence, it was just a contemplative one.

Spike crushed his cigarette as the sun's rays left the parking lot. "Let's head on out," He told Jade, who nodded. It was time to meet up with the other Slayers. With Buffy. The memory of the overbearing blonde wasn't the most positive of them. These quiet moments with Spike wouldn't be so easy, and then there was the way the vampire looked at Buffy. More than just affection and doting after her, Spike loved her. Anyone could see it. So even though Jade cherished these moments with Spike, it would be good to have Buffy around again. So she could be reminded who Spike wanted to be with, and keep herself out of useless fantasies. All it did was distract. Spike wanted Buffy, and that was the way things were.


	36. Chapter 35

**AN:** _So my writing has been quite fruitful lately and it turns out I'm a couple chapters ahead of you guys. For a while, I was pretty much posting as I finished, (sorry that this story is completely unedited and not even read through, I just want to get it out and up and get to everything I have planned) but now I'm about 12k ahead of all of you, which is why I'm posting this chapter as mushing two of them together. So it's a little long (Fanfiction says 9k, but it's more like 8.5k), and you'll notice halfway through it switches to Jade's perspective, and then next chapter it starts with Spike again, because it could have been two standalone chapters, but I thought I'd catch all of you up a little._

 _Thank you to those who have patience with my very rough draft, and who keep checking back and reading every day, I hope it's as exciting to read as it is for me to write, and I have so much more planned, so far in the future I'm not sure if I'll get get there. But going to try, regardless. Thank you to LovingAnything for the reviews, it's so nice to hear that you're excited for the chapters as well, and thank you to followers, favoriters, and just general readers. Hope you enjoy!_

 **35**

Back at Scoobieville. Or Slayer Headquarters. Whatever nonsense they were calling it. The hotel seemed a lot more filled out than when he had left it. Gathering of all the power pieces, sit em down and have a good lengthy talk to figure their troubles out. Great. He almost wished he was still hunting down Doc. All that was going to come from this was bloody lengthy discussions and a whole lot of debate before they got anywhere. Yeah, they had some pretty powerful allies from all over, but there were a ton of different people. Least Spike didn't see any fancy car belonging to Captain Forehead. That was swell and good. Yeah, it was true, after Spike's forced little detour in Los Angeles, he and his old Rival, grand-sire, the dick, Angel, had gotten a bit closer. Closer in the 'I accept you exist and yeah we fight well together' and not in the 'let's get matching souled vampire keychains' sense. And they still had that old rivalry whenever they were around Buffy. Though the broody vampire had claimed he moved on, Spike knew Angel still had that damn cookie dough analogy or whatever in his head whenever he saw the blonde Slayer. Still held on the hope that he'd get the girl when she was ready. Hell, Spike had that same hope. But they couldn't both be happy, so of course Spike preferred when Angel was as far away as possible. Less temptation.

As it was, there wasn't much time sitting around. Andrew had been in the foyer, welcoming Spike and Jade with glee, although he had, in his not so tactful or socially adept way, informed that Spike was welcome to the meeting, but Jade was not. "Meeting of the minds. Can't have any unknowns in our midst." Andrew had said, but Jade only nodded, not offended. So she had stayed in the foyer while Spike had followed Andrew, who had gone out to get a donut, complaining that everyone had been 'at it for hours'. He joined them in the library, larger than the small meeting room that they had been in last time. There was quite a crowd. Meeting of the minds indeed. Spike scoffed at the thought. Well, he supposed the minds were a little less intimidating to the fact he knew nearly all of them. In the organization, they were legends, the ones at the top. But Spike had seen them from the beginning. They weren't all that formidable in his eyes. Except for Willow. He spied the red head, who was standing with her bossy as hell girlfriend, debating—looked more like arguing—over a map. Yeah, the witch was definitely someone he admired, and feared, just a little. She had gotten all the stronger over the years. She could probably take him now, with her witchy hocus pocus. Bit depressing, really. He remembered when he almost ate her. Once when he was trying to get a love potion for Dru, and then later when he had that sodding chip put in his head. Probably a good thing he hadn't been successful, with all that Willow had accomplished. Although there was nearly that end of the world thing she had managed. Spike hadn't been there to see it, but he had heard about it. And how it had ended.

Xander Harris. There he was, standing to Buffy's side, over a map. He looked like a regular goober, except for his distinguishable eye-patch. Now that had been a nasty wound. Nastier fight. But the everyman had made it. He and Spike had definitely never been close, never even liked each other. Harris hated Spike's love for Buffy. And then there was what Spike had almost done to Buffy, made Xander hate him even more. 'Course, that was a while ago. But some things still ran deep. Like irritation and annoyance. No, they'd never be close friends, but as the same with Angel, they were willing allies. That was about as good as it got. He fancied himself one of Buffy's generals, now, heading a Slayer Base in Toronto with the little bit, Dawn. Spike glanced around the room, but didn't see her. She must have not come along on this little trip. Bit of a shame. He wouldn't admit it, not aloud, and not to Xander, but he had missed the nibblet. She wasn't so young as she used to be, the little teenager that would hang around at his crypt and barely bite-sized, but he still saw her as the Slayer's lil sis. And she was one of the few who actually liked him.

"Spike! Hey man." Spike looked up in surprise. There was Gunn. Gone were the lawyer's outfits, back in something a little more streetwise, his shaved head gleaming. Spike smirked back at him. He had fought some good battles with this man. End of the world battles. Where they had gotten out. Just barely, and not all of them. But he was glad to see the man. He was a formidable fighter, for a human. Wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. And still had a bit of that Lawyer stuff in his noggin, though that had never mattered much to Spike. Wasn't one for laws and clauses. Axes and punching, that he could get behind.

"You here alone, Charlie boy?" Spike asked. Not that Angel's team had been all that large after the fight at Wolfram & Hart. Lorne had left, Fred was Illyria, Wesley had died. But Gunn was shaking his head.

"Nope. Illyria and Gwen are with me." Gunn spoke. Spike knew Illyria, but he was vaguely aware of the name Gwen.

"Gwen? The walking cardiac arrest?"

Gunn smirked, nodding his head with a short laugh. "That's the one. And Illyria. She was displeased you weren't here yesterday. Misses her pet."

"Displeased sounds like her word for it."

Gunn laughed again. "It was." There was a smile on the man's face, although it didn't stay too long. Wasn't exactly the atmosphere for giggles. There were serious debates all around them. Spike caught a glimpse of one of the more somber members, bleeding Rupert Giles, who was surrounded by dusty tomes as he always was, saying something or other to Buffy. Always trying to be the consult. That was another man Spike never got along with. He figured himself Buffy's father, that Rupert. Bloody unhappy when it was known Spike had the hots for Buffy.

"Where are they? Didn't get a backstage scoobie pass?"

"Angel vouched for us, but Buffy just wanted her generals here. They're out in the lobby, or walking around somewhere." Gunn shrugged.

"Where is Angel? Not here, then?"

"No, he's following a lead with Faith." Faith. The once-ostracized, bad girl Slayer, the dark side of Buffy. Sure, she'd gone all soft and redeemed herself, but there was still the shadows she couldn't shake. Spike could recognize that. Saw it in himself. But he smirked at the news that Gunn had given him.

"Bet that Buffy was head over heels to hear that." That's right, Angel was mucking about with Buffy's evil clone. Well, probably not. Angel was too goody-good for that. Wouldn't try to make Buffy jealous on purpose. Spike didn't have the same inhibitions. Not that he was actively trying to make Buffy jealous. It always backfired on him. Backfired by actually working and making him feel like an arse. No, the Slayer he brought along was to watch his own back. And to keep her from falling into whatever trap kept snatching up Slayers.

Gunn shrugged. "She been busy."

"What's the news, then?" Spike let the matter drop. Time to figure things out, then.

Gunn scratched his chin. "What you been told?"

"Cliff notes. Red over there," Spike gestured to Willow. "Called me a couple days ago. Said Slayerettes were poofing all over the map. Didn't get much more than that."

"Yeah, well, we haven't gotten further either. We were with Angel and Faith, cleaning out another Wolfram & Hart branch in Cairo. Well, making sure it stayed cleaned out, anyway."

Spike nodded. Hell had reigned down on them in Los Angeles. They had gotten out, eventually and barely, but Angel wasn't quite done, making sure that the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart would get put down and stayed there. Spike had joined the battle for a bit, but eventually he had went back to Buffy. Seemed like he always did that. And then he didn't want much to do with anything for a while, which had landed him in Haven.

"They called us and let us know. Faith wanted to do something about it. Angel sent us here with what we knew, and they went to track where a Slayer Squad had gone missing. We only got here about a day ago, but they've been going at it for a while." Gunn gestured to Buffy's head table. "She's not too free with all the details, so I only know what I know. You'd probably have better luck talking to her yourself."

"Must think it's an inside job of some sort, then," Spike muttered contemplatively, half to himself, but Gunn was nodding, having caught the comment.

"Think so. Got them all riled up. Nice, though. Having this army of Slayers. Would have done us some good back in LA." There was a reflective look in Gunn's dark eyes, and Spike returned it. They had lost good people. Wesley, for one. Spike still counted Fred as a casualty, but part of him was glad that the gentle scientist had been turned into the battle ready Illyria for that fight. Didn't think she could have handled it, seeing Wesley die. And likely wouldn't have survived what ensued after that.

"Alright. Going to talk to the head honchos." Spike said, and Gunn nodded.

"I'll just be over here at the kid's table," Gunn joked. He could be lighthearted about it at least, though Spike knew Gunn didn't like taking a backseat. Sure, he didn't have the best head for planning, hell, Spike didn't, but Gunn was loyal, and a hell of a fighter. With Angel, he was one of his most trusted confidantes, but here, in Buffy's court, it was a whole other story. Spike stepped over to the table, where Buffy and Xander were muttering, placing tokens on a world map. He figured the red flags where were the Slayers had disappeared from. There were a couple of black flags, not as many. He deduced that it might be the Slayers that weren't part of the Organization, judging from where they were on the map. He saw the red flags just a bit out of Haven, where the two Slayers had taken the runaway. There might be a black flag on Haven right now, if he hadn't taken Jade with him. He was glad he had. Needed some muscle, some he could trust. Didn't know what would happen in the next days, especially if someone in their ranks was behind this.

Xander and Buffy looked up as he approached. Giles was standing a couple feet behind them, arguing with Andrew, looking utterly annoyed, as the older watcher often did when he dealt with Andrew. Andrew's theories were high on the quantity and low on the quality. In the span of time it took Spike to walk from Gunn over to the table, he'd heard the word 'Aliens' and 'Body Snatchers' totaled up to four times. And there was Giles, doing that thing where he sighed, took off his glasses and scratched his forehead.

"So you finally came," Buffy spoke, her voice prim and judging, but her green eyes lingered on Spike as the vampire came closer.

"Looks like you got the crap beat out of you. Sorry I missed it," Xander chimed in, the snarky little bastard. Spike caught his words, the little quirk of his head and raised eyebrows. Yeah, he wished he'd been there already, probably to help beat up the Spike. But it didn't bother the vampire. Things wouldn't be the same without a few snide quips between frenemies. What a terrible word, yet it summed them up pretty well.

"Yeah, well. Had a few things to do," Spike shrugged. "What's the situation?"

"The situation is that the two Slayers I sent with you to pick up with Bailey are gone," Buffy's voice was hard, but Spike knew the blonde Slayer to a peach. She was frustrated with this whole deal, and they didn't know a damn thing. So the easiest thing was to pick out someone and lay the blame on them. And that was always Spike's thing. Hurt the ones you love, well Spike was Buffy's favorite piñata. But he didn't let it touch him. He was used to her being angry at him, didn't much faze him now. There were things more important than pulling her leg.

"Yeah, well. Had some things to do. Got lost myself. Pulled into a demon dimension for a week."

Buffy's eyes glanced down, just long enough for Spike to see the change in her expression. He smiled, a big smugly.

"Worried about me, were you?" He asked audaciously. Buffy's vulnerable expression changed, a glare replacing it immediately. Hit that right on the button.

"Can we please focus? There are more important things than you getting lost. Like how we can make it happen again," Xander was always there, jumping in to protect little miss Buffy. Seemed like they were running a cycle that never ended. Spike loved Buffy, no changes in that. Xander hated Spike and wanted Buffy to be happy, and Buffy had no sodding idea what she wanted.

"So you didn't see what happened to them?" Buffy asked, softer again, back to business.

"No, love. And we got taken off the map for a whole other reason. Doc." Spike shot the last word at Xander, who nodded with recognition.

"That demon has more lives than a cat," Xander shook his head. They were the ones that fought him the first time. Ran a bleeding sword through Doc's chest, and he recovered that right quick. Made it to the tower in time to push Spike off of it.

"Not anymore," Spike announced, triumphant. "Burned him to a crisp. He's not coming from that."

"'We?'" Buffy finally said, tripped on Spike's mention of getting taken off the map.

"Your favorite Slayer, Jade." Spike spoke, tempted to rub it in just a little. But making Buffy jealous by bringing Jade wasn't his intention. It wasn't a cheap, jaunty trick to make Buffy feel bad. If there was trouble coming, Spike felt confident that Jade would help. She had a knack for getting into trouble, but she had made it out of all of it so far. She was a brawler, and a good one. If this was leading to a fight, it was best that Jade be there in the midst. That was it. "I brought her here."

"You brought her here?" Buffy echoed, looking at him incredulously. "This isn't the time to bring in more outside elements," She hissed.

"I get it. Got yourself a bit of a snag from the inside. But she's trustworthy, and a good fighter. Helped me bring down Doc. And I figured it's better we keep the Slayers in places we can keep them safe? If someone's picking off the lone ones, a lil' divide and conquer, better give them less they can grab." He spoke the last as if stating the absolute obvious. Xander nodded, although stopping his head-bob halfway when he saw Buffy wasn't as quick to agree.

But the blonde couldn't argue with logic. Well, she _could_ , damn bint could argue with anything. But she knew she had better things to think about, so Buffy acquiesced. "Fine. As long as she doesn't go wandering."

"This where everyone been disappearing from, then?" Spike motioned to the board. Xander nodded.

"Always out on the field," The one-eyed general explained. "Not all at once. Like cutting a swath. But fairly all over the place, one by one. Been happening for a while, but it started to pile up pretty quickly. We figure we're missing over eighty of our own, and maybe forty or more of those outside the Organization."

Spike whistled. They couldn't exactly tell which Slayers were missing if they weren't part of the Slayerettes. They were quite a few. Willow had worked it out to about 1800 Slayers in all the world, a couple more each year as potentials hit the mark, from age to about 12 to 15, but Slayers' short lived lives hadn't changed, so they lost about that many as well. And no-one was about to send twelve year olds out into the field. The Slayer Organization had about five hundred distributed around the world, but how many of those were active and ready to fight, Spike didn't know. "And you don't know who's done this? Sure they're not dead?"

"They're not," Buffy spoke, a little sharply. She took to losing Slayers hard. Pretended like she didn't, like it was part of the job, but Spike knew her better than that. Each one was like a dagger in her side. This must be beating her up something else. "Willow can sense that they're alive. But they're being hidden somewhere. Her locator spell won't find them."

"We'll find them, Buffy." Spike assured her, not able to help himself. She acted all tough, but she was bleeding inside. His Buffy. Well. Not his Buffy, never his. But that didn't mean he didn't want to see her okay. As okay as she could be.

"First thing is to find out what's been doing this. And why." Xander spoke. "A couple years ago, the First Evil had his harbingers hunting down the potentials, to wipe them out. Could be trying to do the same thing."

"Doesn't seem like it." Spike disagreed.

"And how would you know? Got a direct line to evil, have you?" Xander retorted.

Spike shrugged his shoulder. "Haven't seen a hint of a harbinger. Seems like someone who knows us well enough, where we'd send the girls. And someone who has to pick them off while they're outdoors," Spike spoke suggestively. Xander frowned at him.

"What, you're saying it's a vampire?"

"I'm just saying, you don't have any flags on our home bases, now do you?" Spike drawled back, ignoring Xander's skepticism.

"It's a possibility. Problem is, we have plenty of things that it _could_ be." Buffy sighed, running her fingers with exasperation through her blonde hair. "Giles thinks they're being gathered for something."

"We've stopped most of our undertakings for the time being," Xander added. "Told the parents of potentials and younger Slayers that they might be best with us for now."

"You're sure about that? Maybe they'll just get targeted more," Spike pointed out.

"Didn't keep you from bringing another Slayer here," Buffy retorted, irritated.

"Yeah, one that can handle herself. I'm talking the young ones. Don't put them on the radar if you can help it."

"We know what we're doing, Spike," Xander told the vampire.

Spike snorted. "Clearly."

"If you're not going to be any help—" Buffy snapped, her eyes blazing, but Spike was calm, relaxed as he shrugged his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, love. I'm here to help. Just wanted an update, is all. If they've been avoiding us non-Slayer folk, then just point me in the direction, and I'll do some groundwork for you."

"Fantastic," Xander spoke, in a tone that was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

Spike left the table as Andrew and Giles came back to it, shoving books on top of it, more discussion. And they'd made it sound like Spike was late to the party, but it hadn't even started at all. The pre-planning, the talking and researching part. Not his thing. He wanted some action. He found Gunn, who was talking on the phone. Spike's ears could hear past the humming of voices, catching a distinct Angel voice. The call ended, and Gunn closed his phone shut.

"Anything from the Dark Slayer and Broody?" Spike asked Gunn, who shook his head.

"They went to one of the places where some Slayers were taken. Bit of blood, but only the Slayers'. No bodies, like the rest of them. They're going to try a few more places and then head back to the States." Gunn then gestured towards Buffy's head table. "You get your cliff notes?"

"A whole lot of bollocks. Running 'round with their heads cut off. No-one knows any bit of anything." It was true, really. "If—"

There was a crash, the sound of the fighting. Spike stiffened, as did everyone else, the noise of the room immediately ceasing as everyone formidable prepared for a fight. But the sudden silence let Spike's ears work their magic, and he let out a "Bloody hell," immediately relaxing.

"Don't worry about it," He called to the rest of the room, who had started moving towards the door. "It's nothing. I got this. Continue your plotting." Not quite relaxed, the inhabitants at least stopped, looking among each other as Spike strode to the door, Gunn on his heels.

"What's that about?" The man asked him as they headed towards another crash.

"Bloody got herself into another fight," Spike muttered to himself. "Leave her alone for two minutes."

"Who?" Gunn insisted.

"Rogue Slayer I came here with. Got a bloody bad habit of causing misunderstandings," He had recognized the sounds of fighting, the grunts, and who they belonged to. They turned around the corner to see an unmistakable blue female, Illyria, throwing a punch at another known form, Jade.

"Sodding hell," Spike rolled his eyes. "Girl's making friends again."

* * *

Jade's eyes had trailed after Spike as he disappeared, following the small man who had greeted them in the foyer. He was small, thin, but wore a jacket far too big and leathery for him. He had a tinny voice, and pronounced 'Vampire' as Vampyr, and trying to hug his favorite 'vampyr', Spike. Spike had shrugged him off, in a blasé tone. He had explained that only Spike was allowed in the back, with the rest of the 'Overlords', and Jade had nodded, watching the two of them disappear down the hall. There weren't many Slayers loitering in the foyer, a couple whispering off by themselves. Jade had went to sit on a couch, a bit at a loss of what to do with herself, when she saw two more women she didn't recognize, arguing amongst themselves.

One could have been a Slayer, young, likely a couple years older than Jade, with curly hair and bright red lipstick. She was covered, head to toe, in black leather, even wearing gloves indoors. She was rolling her eyes at her companion, who was even stranger looking. Midnight and blue hair, a pale skin that had a sprinkling of blue on it as well, bright cobalt eyes, even her lips had a shade of blue on them. She was definitely something greater than human, in a black and red combat suit. She held herself stiffly, looking aggravatingly at her companion.

"I do not see why we must stay out here." The blue woman spoke, her voice dead of most inflections, a cool apathetic sound to her voice.

"Because we're outcasts, Smurfie. We didn't get the golden pass, alright?" The woman huffed, fluttering her eyelashes. She glanced at Jade as she approached. "Who're you?" The woman asked, a bit defensively.

Jade managed a wan smile. "An outcast, apparently. I'm Jade." The curly haired woman relaxed, apparently gladdened by the lack of attitude.

"Sorry 'bout that. I'm Gwen Raiden. And the blue fairy beside me is Illyria." Gwen gestured to Illyria, who turned her scrutinizing blue gaze on the Slayer, examining her. Her face was devoid of most emotion, a cold exterior.

"Nice to meet you. Are you… a Slayer, then?" Jade hesitated. She doubted Illyria was, but she still wasn't sure about the curly haired woman until she shook her head.

"Nope. I'm something else," She grinned, as if a private joke to herself, but she didn't elaborate, and Jade didn't pry. "And before you ask, she's an Old One. Whatever that is. Fancied herself a God back in the day. Not so much anymore."

"I am stronger than you," Illyria asserted, narrowing her eyes. Gwen raised a hand, playing with the glove.

"Want to see about that? Betting I can stop your heart. If you still have one under that thick skin of yours."

Illyria's eyes narrowed with displeasure. Jade watched the exchange, an eyebrow raised. "So are you… friends, or?" They didn't seem like they would be taking sleepover and braiding each other's hair. In fact, they didn't even seem to like each other. If they were allies, they were odd ones.

Gwen shrugged. "Just a team. Sort of. Getting used to the idea. Making sure my boyfriend doesn't get his guts plastered out on a daily basis. And she's just here because no-one knows how to make her go away yet."

"I am crucial," Illyria disagreed, affronted, tone cold. "I am to join the fight. To confront the danger."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it. You'll be our bodyguard if the big nasty comes looking for one." Gwen said dismissively. "What about you? You part of the Super-girl club?" She glanced back to Jade before Illyria could form another comment.

Jade nodded, though hesitantly. "Kind of. I'm a Slayer. But not part of the club. Spike brought me along after he heard about the dilemma."

"Spike?" Illyria echoed, her blue eyes gazing at Jade suspiciously. "He is here? Where is he? Who are you to him?" She demanded in rapid succession.

"Relax, blue planet." Gwen told her. She glanced back at Jade with a shrug. "She gets a little jealous. She's fond of the peroxide vampire."

"I see. We're just… friends." Jade told Illyria to placate her, although she didn't think she ranked that high on Spike's list. Allies, maybe. Fighting buddies. Friends seemed a little far-fetched, though he had been kind to her. Respected and trusted her enough to fight by her side. Pissed as hell when she had almost let herself get sucked into the demon dimension by herself, enough to come after her.

"So I guess you don't really know anyone either," Gwen was saying. "They're a little hoity toity here, holier than thou. But I guess they're not big into trusting right now. Faith is alright, and she's a Slayer, but get too many together, seems like bit too much estrogen for me."

"Yeah. Not normally part of the crowd, myself. But seemed better than getting snatched on my own."

"Feeble humans often find comfort in strength in numbers. But it is a lie." Illyria announced, while Gwen rolled her eyes. "Strength is not determined by the group, but by individual. That is true power."

"Ignore her. She has a past-god complex." Gwen sighed. "God, this place is boring. Charles told us to try to find something to entertain ourselves, but that was hours ago. And you can see how hard it is to find entertainment with company like this. Still waiting for him to come out. There's nothing here but training grounds."

"Yeah. I—" Jade frowned, feeling a headache peppering at her eyes. She rubbed her temple unconsciously, while Gwen looked at her.

"You okay? I mean. You look a little beat up."

"Headache," Jade shook her head to clear it. She found her eyes drawn to Illyria, who was still regarding her suspiciously. Jade found her lips moving, speaking without meaning to, speaking to Illyria. "It was good that you came."

The blue woman's eyes narrowed further, her head swaying slightly from side to side. "Of what do you speak?" Illyria questioned. Jade didn't know what compelled her to speak further, a light buzzing in her head.

"Thank you for lying to me," Jade spoke, not knowing why. Lying about what? She had hardly met the woman. But somehow, she felt she did, a strong gratitude, not sarcasm at the words. Illyria reacted immediately, something akin to animosity and grief in her blue eyes, her gloved hand reaching out to grab Jade by the throat.

"Why do you say this?" Illyria demanded, while Gwen shouted a halt. The Old one ignored her, her focus on Jade as she pulled the Slayer closer. Jade didn't struggle. She would have, but found her arms were sluggish and slow to respond. "Why do you speak his words?"

"Like… the pronoun game… is really helpful." Jade managed to cough out. Suddenly, she could move again, freely, and she kicked Illyria in the stomach. It was like kicking a wall, so she twisted, forcing herself out of the woman's grip as she fell to the ground. "He who? Jesus!" She shouted as Illyria brought her fist down where Jade had been, as she just managed to clamber out of the way. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

"Those words. Wesley said those to me. Why do you taunt me with them?" Illyria asked in her same, flat, even tone, staring at Jade as she struck Jade with a blow that threw her across the room.

"Woah, settle the hell down, Illyria! Christ." Gwen yelled "You're crazy, you know that? She didn't do anything."

Illyria ignored Gwen, stalking across towards the room towards Jade, who pulled herself out of the broken plaster of the wall she had crashed into, wood splinters and dust falling around her. Jade stood her ground as the blue woman approached her, curling her hands into fists. Well, if Illyria really wanted a fight, Jade wasn't going to get pummelled without doing something about it. That was when she heard a familiar, "What the bloody hell is going on?" Jade turned to see Spike striding through the halls, exasperation on his face, followed closely by another man who Jade didn't recognize, with dark skin and eyes, the same vexed look on his face.

"Really, Illyria? Not the place to start fights," The man said.

"I did not start anything," Illyria insisted with a quiet hiss, although she had stopped where she stood, looking at Jade with enmity in her sapphire eyes.

"You couldn't stop them from fighting?" The man asked Gwen, who shrugged her shoulders.

"What did you want, Gunn, for me to shock them to death? It just started. Illyria went all berserk."

"She is possessed," Illyria stated, staring at Jade.

"What? No I'm not." Jade protested. If anything, Illyria was the possessed one. She was standing there just fine for one minute, and then started whaling on Jade for some man's words? It didn't make sense to her. Nor the fact is that she couldn't determine _why_ she had said those things. God. They just had jumped to her lips of their own inclination. God. That didn't bide well. Jade looked, somewhat abashed, in Spike's direction. He was rolling his eyes, the exasperation still there, but he didn't look angry. That kept her stomach from twisting quite so tightly, the fact that he didn't yell at her outright.

"What is going on here?" Another voice entered the fray, another man, who was older, in his early fifties. He had brown hair with a graying tinge to it, and a long scar that ran the width of his forehead. He had an English accent to his words, a quieter, yet heuristic tone. Jade watched Spike sigh, as the vampire turned towards the man.

"I got it, Rupert. No need to fret. Just a little bit of differences."

"Yes, well. Rather damaging differences," the man named Rupert replied, glancing at the wall pieces still clinging onto Jade. "I expect more of an explanation than that. This isn't the time for infighting."

"Quite aware, thanks." Spike responded impatiently. "Illyria, there a reason for this hullabaloo, other than that?"

"She is possessed," Illyria insisted.

"Quit saying that." Jade snapped. "I don't even know what's going on. Who is Wesley?"

"You were speaking his words," Illyria said again, narrowing her eyes as she took another step over to Jade. Spike took one to balance it out, both he and Charles stepping between the Old One and the Slayer.

"Did he have an monopoly on them or something?" Jade was getting frustrated. Talking to Illyria wasn't giving her any better insight, and her throat hurt from where Illyria had grasped it, with terrible strength. Hitting the wall hadn't helped.

"His last words," Illyria verified. There was a change in atmosphere, a brief reflection on Charles' and Spike's faces, even Rupert seemed contemplative. "That he was glad I came. To witness his death. Before he died, he asked me to lie to him. To see this vessel's earlier face. You just thanked me for lying."

"That's coincidence," Jade spoke, but with little vehemence, her confidence fading. Illyria seemed sure, speaking with certainty. "So what, I was possessed by this Wesley's ghost. To speak to you?"

"Perhaps." Illyria replied, a cold calmness to her words.

"Then why try to beat me up for it?" Jade demanded.

"I… Did not like hearing it." Illyria spoke a little uncertainly, now. "It filled me with… unpleasant memories. Feelings."

"Well. You have officially gone off your rocker, you know that, Blue?" Spike spoke to Illyria. "And wrong. I think I'd know if she had been possessed."

"Would you now?" Rupert spoke with a slight implication. Spike shot him a look.

"Stuff it, Watcher. She's not possessed." Spike spun his head back towards Jade. "You're not, are you?"

"Uh…" Not the most confident of answers. "I don't think so? But… she's right. I spoke to her. It was just two sentences, but they felt really strange. Like I had no reason to say them. Ah, Christ." Jade said, sudden realisation, her stomach tightening. "Henry."

"Who, what now?" Spike asked. This whole thing was starting to get confusing, and now he was staring at her like she was crazy. She shook her own confusion away.

"Henry. I said his name, yesterday, when we were with Eddie, do you remember? Eddie started acting really weird after I said it, and the thing is, I don't even know why I mentioned that name. He's one of the orphan kids who I barely know. But Eddie was looking at me like I'd spilled all his secrets. Known something I shouldn't." She winced. "Maybe something is happening."

"Think it's left over from sister-watcher?" Spike almost seemed understanding. She had seen that in him. He was observant and smart, liked getting to the bottom of things. And Spike's possession by Pen was still fresh in both of their minds. It wasn't the most far-fetched of leaps, but Jade shook her head.

"Saw Eddie before that," She reminded him.

"So… did we just figure something out, or what?" Gunn said after an awkward second, his eyes glancing between Spike, Jade and Illyria. "Or am I just more confused than I was before?"

"If you ask me, it's Illyria's that's the crazy one," Gwen muttered, coming up to Gunn's side, carefully entwining his arm with his. Gunn gave Gwen a slight smile.

"I am not insane." Illyria stated, defiantly, turning her head to Gwen and then back towards Jade. "But I will… no longer attack you. Until you give me further reason for it." Her eyes glinted a challenge. Jade sighed, rubbing at her neck.

"If you believe your… companion is under some sort of possession," Rupert started, coming up to Spike's side, earning another glare from Spike. "I believe we should have someone look into it."

"There's no need. She's fine." Spike insisted. "I'll keep a handle on it."

"This isn't exactly the time to have a stranger in our midst. A possibly dangerous one at that… Not meaning to offend," Rupert added the last part in Jade's direction.

"None taken," Jade tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it.

"I'll handle it, Rupert. Plus, think you got your hands full. Jus' send us Willow when she got a moment. In the meantime, we'll stay out of your hair." Spike affirmed.

"Don't go far," Rupert warned, not in an overly threatening way, a more gentle mandate than anything else. "Stay within the grounds. Would be wisest, for now."

"Got it." Spike muttered. Rupert glanced at Jade, giving her a wan smile that was neither comforting nor sinister, nodding his head slightly and turning back down the hall, to where he had come from.

Gunn whistled. "Well, that was fun."

"You're not going back in, are you?" Gwen pouted. "I've been stuck with her all day." Gunn looked at her, part exasperation, part affection.

"Sorry babydoll. But yeah, think I could take a break. Done what I can for now. Gotta wait until there's something new." Gunn scratched at his head, giving a light smile to Gwen's returning beam. "Come on Illyria, let's get you out of the building before you smash it up some more."

Illyria raised her head indignantly, one more glower in Jade's direction, but she did not argue, trailing after the couple as they walked through the halls.

It was just her and Spike now, not exactly alone, a few Slayers still lingering in the halls, curiously, but without interfering. Just curious little onlookers. Jade winced as she looked at Spike. She didn't know why she felt like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but that her primary feeling, a bit of shame and embarrassment. And she had gotten into another fight, again. Couldn't even leave her alone for five minutes without… "Sorry," She began to mutter, seeing Spike's eyes on her. He took a step towards her, closing the distance.

"Your neck took a beating again," He observed without emotion. He reached for her, and she didn't flinch, letting him peek at the bandage that covered her cut, although she did wince when his fingers traced her tender skin, as careful as he was trying to be.

"Yeah. And she hits like a…"

"Mack truck," Spike finished for her. There was something in his eyes now, a glint of amusement. "Used to spar with her, after she came to be. Mostly just got thrown around. Hitting her was like hitting cement. Broke plenty of my bones." He glanced down at her, almost concern in his blue eyes. "She break anything?"

"No," Jade said truthfully. "Just battered, but I've had worse. Slayer healing will clear it up." It was true, Illyria hit _hard_ , but she hadn't hit Jade for very long, many blessings to that. She felt like it had been a long time since she was a hundred percent. That Slayer healing was working overtime. Healing all the old wounds in time for the new ones to settle in. "What if I am possessed? This might not be the best place for me," She said, serious now.

Spike scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "There's no better place for you if you've gone off your rocker. More than enough people to hold you down if you go all berserk. Better here than back in Haven. Just relax, Slayer. We'll figure it out." There he was, being reassuring again, instead of mocking. She didn't know which part of him she liked better. With the mocking, she knew where she stood, as a buddy to laugh with, but when he was concerned, it was off-putting, she didn't quite know how to react. She was relieved when Spike let go of the bandage at her neck, stepping back to put some distance between them. It made it easier to breathe.

"Okay," She echoed. "We'll figure it out."

* * *

"Okay, I'm here," A slightly tired Willow came to them, yawning. It was well into the early hours of the morning, and the red-headed witch was rubbing at her eyes. "Giles said you guys wanted to see me? Some kind of magical possession?" Her eyes focused on Jade, not accusing, merely contemplative.

"That's it, Red. Do what you do best, spin your little hocus pocus, and put everyone's mind at ease," Spike spoke to her. Willow looked at him, nodding with a wan smile.

"Do what I do best," Willow echoed, wearily. But she was friendly enough as she looked at Jade. "Come with me then, I'll do a couple of spells to see if anything's out of wack." She glanced at Spike, whose mouth had opened, "She'll be fine with me," Willow chided. "See if you can convince Buffy to take a nap."

Spike's hesitation faded away at the mention of Buffy, taking a step in the direction, although he did glance back at Jade, unspoken words in his eyes. Jade nodded her head resignedly. Buffy was where he wanted to be, and she wasn't afraid of being alone with Willow. In fact, the witch was probably the one Jade was the most comfortable with here. She wasn't arrogant or bossy, but down to earth and easy to talk to.

"Okay, here we go," Willow said as she led Jade into a room. It was filled with all sort of witchy things, potions and dried herbs, and pestles. "You can sit anywhere. Well mostly anywhere. It's kind of a mess. I'm not allowed to leave these things in the room any more in case Sophie gets into them."

Jade looked up at the mention of Willow's adopted child, the one who held her dead lover's family name. "How is Sophie?"

"Great," Willow said warmly, smiling as she sat across from Jade. "Really, really great. She's super sweet. And she loves all the wiccan stuff. Kennedy said I probably shouldn't teach her that much stuff yet, but just the little spells and charms, they don't hurt anyone." She beamed, tying her long red hair back into a ponytail.

"I'm glad she found a home with you," Jade said and meant it. "Is she here, at the hotel?"

"Yeah, hopefully still sleeping. Kennedy and I bring her with us wherever we go. Not—not everywhere. Not if it's like dangerous, promise. I'm a good mama," Willow said quickly, and then with pride, nodding her head with an endearing smile. "If we have to go out in the field where there's no real place to keep her, I let her stay with the coven. They love babysitting her." Willow sprinkled a few herbs as she spoke, gesturing with her hands and making a small circle around where Jade was sitting in her chair.

"I'm glad. She seemed to take to you pretty quickly. Nice to have a home."

"And she's so sweet. Just so innocent. A little shy, but Kennedy's trying to make her speak her mind more." Willow shook her head with an exasperating but fond look. "I think she's perfect just the way she is. Told her about her aunt, Tara. Well, not exactly an aunt, but I think she's a little too young to learn about twice removed cousins. We'll wait a bit for that." Willow looked at her, her eyes focusing on something, and then frowning.

"What? Is something wrong?" Jade asked, alarmed at the change in the witch's expression.

"Not exactly. There's a slight… tear," Willow continued, still frowning, more out of contemplation than worry, which was a bit comforting, but not overly.

"A tear in what?" Jade asked, trying to keep her tone even.

"Your… spirit. There's like someone made a little hole…" Willow frowned. "Going to open it a bit more, so I can take a peek." At Jade's expression, she gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Can you just… close it instead?"

"I don't think it's that easy. Got to see what it does first. It'll be alright. Don't worry."

Jade nodded, hesitantly. Willow muttered an "Ostendo," waving her hands. "Huh. It's opening a bit more. I'm not sure what…"

"Sweetie?" Jade spoke. Willow's eyes snapped from where she saw the tear, looking instead at Jade's face.

"What was that?" Willow asked, a bit alarmed.

"Oh, sweetie. It's you." Jade's eyes filled with tears of their own inclination. She no longer had control of her mouth, or even her hands, as they reached out tentatively towards Willow, who was frozen.

"It can't be." The wicca finally spoke. "Is it? I mean, I've talked to someone before that said they knew you. They just turned out to be the first evil, but…"

"I-It's me," Jade said with another smile, rapidly nodding her head. "I promise. You can see my aura, can't you? I promise it's mine."

"How? Tara? How are you here? You're using Jade's body?"

"Who? O-oh. Yes." Jade-Tara looked down at her hands, giving Willow an abashed look. "N-Not quite me. I don't know how to explain it. I-It's like I can always see you. But when she's near you, I can get through. Gives me a living connection. To you." Jade-Tara gave Willow another soft smile. She reached for Willow's hand, who didn't pull away, but stared at her, disbelieving.

"I wish I could see you." Willow murmured, to which Jade-Tara gave her a sad smile.

"Me too, sweetie. W-well, I am seeing you. Talking to you. I've always wanted to…. Never really got a chance…"

"I tried to bring you back," Willow's eyes began to fill with tears. "And I couldn't."

"I know, I know." Jade-Tara made a light shushing sound with her mouth as the tears rolled down Willow's cheeks.

"I went into such a dark place, baby," Willow began to sob, and Jade-Tara pulled her close, wrapping her arms around her and stroking at her soft, red hair. "I couldn't bring you back."

"That's alright. It's alright now. I only c-came because I could. I wanted the goodbye we didn't get before. Willow, sweetie."

Willow stilled her sobs, glancing up at Jade-Tara. "It sounds like you. I just wish it looked like you, was you."

"I know, me too. I would k-kiss you. But s'not my body. Wouldn't quite be right," Jade-Tara said, continuing to stroke Willow's tear-stained cheek.

"Can you stay?" Willow whispered, and Jade-Tara shook her head.

"It opens and closes, the little window in h-her. I don't know how long. But it's not natural, Willow. You'll need to try to find a w-way to close it. I don't think this is good for her."

"Close it? But I'll never talk to you again," Willow argued.

"You will, someday," Jade-Tara smiled sadly at her.

"I don't know how… to close it. It's not like a normal possession I've seen before."

"You'll find a way. I only know what I know. Not all seeing. I wish I could be more help. Wish I could stay for a lot longer," Jade-Tara admitted softly.

"Are you mad at me that I… I never forgot you, I didn't, but I'm…"

"I'd never want you to be alone and unhappy," Jade-Tara assured her. "I'll be here, waiting. Always."

"I adopted. A child. She's your cousin's daughter. She looks like you, a little. Likes magic."

Jade-Tara's smiled, a wide beam of happiness. "Thank you," She spoke sincerely, eyes glimmering with more tears.

"She's your family. We would have taken her if you…were still here. I had to keep her. But I wish you were there, to help me raise her. I wish you were here for everything." Willow's bottom lip trembled.

"I love you, sweetie. I'll always be watching. I have to go now."

"Tara, no, just talk with me a bit longer." Willow begged her, squeezing tight onto her hands as if that would keep her past lover grounded. Jade-Tara smiled back at her once more, a forlorn gaze. "I love you, I love you, I love you," Willow cried at her, and then Jade-Tara tumbled into her arms. The witch lifted the Slayer back into the chair.

Jade blinked, her throat parched. She remembered every second of it, like she had been watching through a window. She felt tired, exhausted. She reached for her cheeks, feeling the dampness of them. She couldn't even remember the last time she had cried. She looked down at her hand, where Willow was still holding onto her hand tightly, wiping more tears from her eyes.

"I'm… sorry." Jade didn't know what to say. It wasn't exactly her fault. She barely understood what had happened. But Willow seemed devastated, so she reached out for the witch hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze for comfort. "I don't know what…"

"It was Tara," Willow said after a second. "She was the one that taught me how to read auras a bit better. It wasn't yours. She got through that little crack to talk to me. It is some sort of spirit possession. I just…"

"At least it was a very good spirit," Jade said softly. "I could feel everything. When she held you and talked. The way she feels. Not a malevolent bone in her body." It was a terrible analogy, and she regretted it as soon as she said it, but Willow was nodding in agreement.

"That was Tara. She was so good." Willow breathed in, a shaky sob, shaking her head to clear it. "Sorry. I'm not usually so weepy."

"It's okay. Saw my dead boyfriend a couple days ago, nearly had a breakdown."

"You lost someone too?" Willow asked with a sniff.

Jade nodded. "He was my best friend. My other half, really."

"Tara was my soulmate." Willow murmured. "Oh, that's so awful for me to say. I love Kennedy, I do, I just…"

"Tara was first. You'll always feel something for her. And she still felt that for you. I could feel all her love for you."

Willow nodded. "Oh dear. Here I was going to fix you, and instead I just cry over everything. That said, it's closed a little, for now, the tear. But I'm not sure what… when I pelted it with a couple of spells, it just got bigger."

"I only said about a sentence or two while… possessed before. This was a full conversation." Jade nodded in agreement.

"Yes. So I'm not quite sure what… I don't want to keep throwing spells at it before I know what it'll do. Got to do some research first." Willow made a face. "More research."

"Later." Jade said quietly. "You're exhausted. And you have bigger crises to worry about. I can wait until you get some sleep."

"Yeah. That's probably… best." Willow didn't argue. "But make sure you eat something, drink something? You're looking a bit pale."

"I think that's just my skin tone," Jade said with an attempt at levity. "But I will. Thank you." The observant Wicca wasn't wrong. Jade felt tired, like her energy had been drained. All of her aches and bruises hurt just a bit more. And this tear that Willow was talking about, well that didn't fill her with any good feelings.

"Let me know if you have any more…visitors?" Willow didn't say Tara's name, but Jade knew what was who she was thinking of.

"Of course."


	37. Chapter 36

**36**

The meeting room was almost empty. Most of the people had cleared out, but shocker—Buffy was still there, in the same place that Spike had left her, over two hours ago. In the corner, Giles was there too, sitting in a chair, a book open in his palm. He didn't look up as Spike approached Buffy, the vampire too quiet to catch his attention, but Buffy saw him. She had another red flag twisting between her fingers, which she plunged down on the map. Aggravated, she rubbed at her temples, mussing up those golden strands of her silky, smooth hair. She looked up, wearily at Spike. She didn't have as much spunk as she normally did. It was as Willow had told him, the Slayer was tired. A nap would do her good. Spike thought back to the nights before they had fought the First Evil. He had held her in his arms until she slept, until his skin was almost as warm as hers had been. Had breathed in her scent, that smell of coconut and saccharine sweetness. Felt her small body entwined in his arms. It had been the happiest moments of his life. Yet they were so bloody elusive now, sometimes he doubted they happened. But they _had_. As much as Buffy wanted to deny it, they had happened. There was an attraction between them that couldn't be denied. But that was all she did. Didn't want to get distracted, no, the big boss Slayer had to keep herself busy at all times.

And she was wearing herself thin, worry lines on her face from that damned somber attitude. Where was the carefree Buffy, the one who liked frolicking at the Bronze and shopping? Who paid attention to what she wore and how she did her hair. But she was dressed in plain slacks, a tanktop that didn't accentuate her chest, but displayed her slim figure. Her hair was haphazardly tied back, and the only trace of makeup on her was smudged mascara and uneven eyeshadow. An attempt to play at being Buffy, but Spike knew better. Knew her better. Always had. Knew what hungered beneath, knew every shadow in that heart of hers. At one time, he would have tried to exploit it, bring her into the shadows with him, but it had never worked. She had always stayed just far enough away from him. And that wasn't him anymore. Maybe getting his soul back was supposed to make him deserve her more, but it just meant that to be better for her, he had to do things without her. Didn't make any bloody sense, it didn't, like a damn puzzle he had to do blindfolded. And that was the way things were with Buffy, so damn muddled and sodding confusing, and he could hardly think of anything else. She twisted him all up inside, whenever he was near her. He just wanted to grab her, hold her, kiss her. Whisper sweet nothings into her ear like he was meant to, but she didn't want any of it. Didn't allow herself to. Same ol' Buffy, always holding back. And same ol' Spike, just hanging back in the sidelines, just in case. In case she changed her mind.

Damn, but what a sodding inner monologue. And she hadn't done anything but flickered those maddening green eyes back at him. Turned his insides to mush. He was here for a purpose, he was. Not to stare, and not to fawn. Convince her to get some bloody kip before she fell over from exhaustion. Because she was impossible, this woman, and stubborn to the last. Part of what he had always loved about her. That she was a challenge. But other times, her obstinate ways were a pain in the arse. Right now, it would be a bit of a distraction. As if they had enough problems, and then there was Illyria, accusing Jade of being in some magic's handle. He knew the blue bird wasn't the most sane of companions, but she did know a few things, her Old One's knowledge sometimes being more useful than not. Spike tried not to worry about the Slayer. Willow could set her right back, no need to even think on it. Possession, or Illyria's wackiness, Willow'd set it right. He had confidence in the witch's powers, though they were spread a bit thin these days. Trying to crack open an answer to the million questions they had. Easy as peach.

"You look like you want something," Buffy said, a sigh in her tone. Rupert looked up from where he was reading, glancing suspiciously at Spike, but no more than a lingering glare before he returned back to his book. That's right, Watcher. Keep to your own business. Not that Buffy needed the old man to step in for her anyway. Never had much of a trouble speaking her mind, being bossy as hell when she wanted to be. She'd throw Spike right out of this room if that was what she wanted. Toss him like a Frisbee.

"Yeah," Spike shrugged nonchalantly. "You to have some rest." He watched that infallible little Slayer's body tense a moment at the word 'you', then relax as he finished the rest of his sentence. It always made her a bit uncomfortable, admitting what they had been in the past. So, maybe it wasn't exactly a relationship, in the way a warm, loving one should be—although Spike had definitely loved her, utterly and completely, for every moment of it—it had been lots of sex. Buffy wanting him, wanting to feel something with him. And he had utterly obliged. Been almost a damned sex slave. Like him and Harmony, in reverse. Ugh. He shuddered at the thought of the perky blonde vampire. Sure, she had been a good lay when there were no other options, and he had bleeding sought her right out after becoming corporeal, but she was damn annoying. There was no love there, just a means to an end. And secretly, that was all Spike thought he was to Buffy, just a means to an end. Except she had told him she loved him. He remembered that. She admitted it. But she never acted on it, she only said that because he was about to die. And die he had. And came back. And she was just as confusing as always.

"I'm busy, Spike," Buffy spoke, irritated. Spike heard the little huff of breath coming from the watcher in the corner. The vampire doubted he was the first to try to convince Buffy to let it be for a little while, but it seemed like Rupert had plain given up, settling to pretending he was still helping by being in the same room as her, trying to keep his eyes open, clearly as wearied as his Slayer was. But Rupert was going to stay for as long as Buffy did. Trying to match his stubbornness with hers. Buffy's would win, would always win. Until Spike came into the mix. He was damned good at convincing Buffy of things. At least he had been, once.

"You'll be busy for a while longer, love. You'll hurt your eyes, looking at these maps. Won't be able to see nothing clearly. Take a break. Come back to it."

"Spike," Buffy closed her eyes as if to will him away. But he was making sense, he knew it, she bloody knew it. She grasped at her neck, where there was no doubt tension in it from the stiff soldier act. "Can you just let me be, please?"

"After you kip for a bit," Spike said, holding steadfast. She was breaking, he knew it. Just a few more talk of beds and an overabundance of pillows and she'd fall right for it.

"What does that even mean?" Buffy muttered, staring back down at the map without blinking.

"Sleep. Come back here with a fresh mind. Everyone will be the better for it," he prompted her, keeping his tone slick and sweet, alluring her. Finally, his Slayer nodded.

"Alright," She acquiesced. Giles' book closed shut with a triumphant slam, the Watcher all but jumping out of his chair. Buffy looked back over her shoulder, with the barest of amusement. "If you were tired, Giles, you didn't have to stay up with me."

"Nonsense, Buffy. I'm, uh, here. Whatever you need. But Spike is right," The older man blanched, as if it were terribly wrong to rearrange the words like that in a sentence. But ha, the man had said it. Spike was right. Spike shot him a smug gloat. "Best we get back to this with clear heads. We're more likely to miss something if we're not at our best." He nodded in that slow contemplative way of his. The watcher ambled out of the room, book in hand, while Buffy cast one more look at the table, laying an unused flag to the side. Spike still lingered, watching her, and she glanced up with an exasperated look.

"Okay!" she said, stepping animatedly away from the table. "I'm going to bed. Alone." She said after a moment, as if Spike needed another reminder. She didn't say it to be cruel—though it often had that effect anyway—but more to assure herself.

"No need to tell it to me, love. Not here for that," Spike responded pointedly, but threw it off as casual, shrugging his shoulders as they made their way to the exit. Buffy looked up at him incredulously.

"No?" She asked, clearly not believing him. "Isn't that always what you want?"

He reached for a loose piece of hair, tucking it behind her ear. At least she didn't flinch at the movement. She did, for a while. After he… after he had attacked her, trying to force her to love him again. But now, she just glanced at him warily, waiting for some snarky comment that would made her blush with its bawdiness. But he wasn't quite the dirty-mouthed Vampire he had been once. Sure, most of that was still there. How he had been for over a century, but he wasn't going to be cruel about it. Didn't need to hint at what made her uncomfortable. He'd figured out by now that it wasn't going to make her run into his arms. "I'm just here to help, love."

Buffy sighed, then nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it, Spike." She spoke tiredly, not even a trace of attitude in her tone. Just genuine.

"Can I get that on a t-shirt?" He couldn't help himself, and was rewarded with a roll of her eyes and a light shove that was in no way her full Slayer strength.

"God! Spike, really? You're impossible," She shook her head, but there was a flabbergasted smile playing at her lips. That was the Slayer he knew. Not skimping out on the personality or sass at all.

"Bit ironic, coming from you."

He walked her to her room, stopping at the doorway. He had been invited in, once before. Nothing intimate, but he was sure it still stood. Normally, hotels didn't have protective doorways, but in the case of this one, each Slayer who stayed there long enough had bought out a room, so it was their home. Defense against vampires, as if any would be stupid enough to try to break into a Slayer hive. Which made him wonder what exactly _was_ doing all the big bad body snatching. A thought came to him, and he almost spoke it out loud, but kept it to himself. No, he needed Buffy to sleep, not to keep her up with more debating and theories. "Good night, love." He said to her. She didn't flinch as she did sometimes when he used that word. She hated hearing it, although his response was that it was plenty common nickname among the British. But he didn't use it willy nilly, not anymore. He said love to her because he loved her, and that was that.

"Good night, Spike," Buffy answered, a softness in her tone.

He left her there, and wandered down the halls, running into the familiar red-headed Witch as she headed to her own room. Curiosity sprung at him. He was glad that she had been able to talk to Jade alone, without that damned girlfriend of her hanging around, all suspicious and demanding. Never was that close with Kennedy. Spike had liked Tara, as much as he had liked humans at that time. She was good, and genuinely sweet. And had a hidden spunk in her. He hadn't even yelled at her when she tried to fry him with the sun. Though she had been a bit wacky at the time. But she had never treated him like a monster, just a man. Was a bit of a rare commodity out here, soul or not. Jade. She was another who treated Spike like a man, like an equal. Never complaining to the fact he couldn't travel during the day, throwing his weaknesses in his face. Teased him about his love for Buffy or just treated him like he was an evil soulless thing. Points in her favor. It was simpler, with her. He hadn't had too many friends, or least not that many left, but she was reliable. A strong fighter, and not stubborn as a mule.

"Find anything out with your mystic mojo?" Spike asked Willow, then frowned. She seemed a bit off. Hadn't even noticed him until he said something, and he was basically standing in front of her. She glanced up to him, her nose a bit red, her eyes teary. "Something happen?" He demanded, a bit more urgently.

"Huh? Yeah. And no. Um…" Willow shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if to focus herself. Tired. Everyone here was tired, and not at their best. Bloody right time for the enemy to attack, whoever it was. They were wearing themselves out far too much. "There is something…" The witch said, meeting her gaze to Spike's. "A little tear in her spirit. Lets others get through. It's not natural, it must have been forced recently. She's not in danger," Willow asserted, as she watched Spike's forehead furrow. "Yet. But spirits are trying to find their way through her. It's made her a little tired."

"Why haven't I seen this?" Spike asked.

"Well. It wasn't open very far. I was trying to figure out what it was, and I guess I kinda sped up the process a little. T-A spirit took possession of her for a couple minutes. A good one."

"You hurried it along?" Spike said. This damn magic stuff. Willow was bloody talented—scary talented—at it, but that didn't mean she shouldn't hold it in a bit. She was far too blasé about it sometimes. Spike kept away from magic as much as he could.

"Well, it was going to do it on its own. But yes, I guess I made it a little worse. I'm going to fix it! I just need some sleep." Girl was tired. Her eyes were half-closed. "She's fine right now, Spike." Willow bit back a yawn. "I'll figure it out, I promise." This yawn she couldn't quite stop. Woman was knackered. Spike nodded, a bit reluctantly.

"Fine. You get your sleep then." Willow nodded, relieved, and stepped past him, a few rooms down the hall before entering hers and Kennedy's. Spike watched her for a minute. So it was true, then. Illyria was right after all. Possession. Spike frowned. Recently, the witch had said. Spirits made him think of the demon dimension he and Jade had been banished to. But if that was the case, Spike had been there too. He wasn't about to be possessed, was he? Had enough of that for the week. Year, rest of his damn life. But he'd better keep an eye on Jade, if that was the case. He followed her scent to one of the guest rooms, knocking on the door. Her voice answered him, quiet but immediate, and he entered. She was standing by the window, at the balcony, a cigarette to her lips. Not sleeping yet, but then he and her had all but switched their sleeping schedules around, sleeping during the day like vamps should.

"Want one?" Jade offered as he neared. Nice to keep him from rustling around in his own coat's pockets. He accepted it, and then the lighter from her slender fingers as she passed that to him as well. He took a long drag and then handed the metal lighter back, her hand feeling cold, even next to his.

"Not warm out here," He commented to her. And she was a small thing, goosebumps over that pale skin of hers, but she shrugged in response. She was looking a little worse for wear. But magics could do that. "Talked to Willow," He told her. Jade glanced at him, her expression hard to read. A bit of hesitation, worry, maybe some shame. Whatever for. Wasn't her bloody fault that this was happening. But she was feeling like the weak link, maybe.

"She'll fix it. She said it opens and closes a bit. Should be fine for a while." Jade didn't sound nearly as certain as she tried to be. "I was Tara." She added after a moment, a small hesitant voice. "That is, she was speaking through me."

"Ah." Spike said. That explained things a bit. Well, the sniffling and the crying. Didn't take a genius to figure it out. "She snog you?"

He meant the last part as a humorous quip, and Jade indulged him, shaking her head with a small, but distinct smile. "Tara said it wouldn't be fair to me. She seemed really sweet. I could feel her. Thoughts and feelings running through my head. A bit tiring," She added the last part quietly.

"I imagine it would be," Spike answered, contemplative. "At least there's no overly big bad ghosts taking you for a spin,"

"How do you figure?" Jade asked, curious. Oh, she didn't see it. Made sense. She didn't know the spirits that were visiting as well as Spike did. She leaned into the balcony, not quite hiding the shiver this time as the breeze blew back at them, colder again.

"Well, Tara was Red's one great love. She couldn't hurt a hair on anyone's head. I figure that these spirits come out because there's someone they want to see. And someone wants to see them. Same with Wesley and Illyria. Not that Wesley was overly fond of Illyria. When she came to be she took over the body of the woman he loved, killing her. Looking just like her, except blue. But guess it was enough. Wesley was a bit soft on her 'cuz of it. And though you can't quite tell, Illyria was fond of him. In her own off her knocker way. So at least two cases," Spike gestured with his fingers, "That whoever came through you tried to have a lover's reunion. Sort of."

Jade nodded, understanding rather than perplexed. "Thanks for explaining," She spoke with some relief. "There's so many people—so many things that happened. I get lost."

"Here to help," Spike shrugged. "Get back inside. You're turning as blue as Illyria." Jade didn't argue with him, letting herself be ushered inside, and Spike snuffed out his cigarette under his heel before closing the glass door behind them.

"Who do you think you'd see?" Jade sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. "Or, talk to, rather. From the spirit world."

Spike shrugged nonchalantly. There were some people who were dead that he cared about, although some had come back one way or another. He had been fond of Fred, loved her even, like a sister, or a friend, but her body was still in use. Wasn't even sure if she'd come through. And then there was Buffy, but she was flesh and blood, had been for four years again. "Prolly the same as who we saw in the dimension," Spike admitted. His mum. Although the version in the dimension, that hadn't, hadn't been her. He didn't even know if the ones trying to inhabit Jade weren't some twisted version. Willow seemed to think that it was Tara, full and completely, but she didn't always think with her head, that one. Led a little too much with her heart. Might just be hearing what she wanted to hear.

"Get some sleep." He told her as he stepped up, over towards the door. She was tired and cold, and her eyelids were drooping. Her gaze followed him. She seemed a bit timid, maybe afraid of the dark, or the strange possession. But so far it had only come out when she was with someone. Or at least, that was how it seemed. He didn't wait for her response after he closed the door behind him, but heard a light "Good night," follow him down the hall.


	38. Chapter 37

**37**

"Anything?" Willow was asking her. Jade shook her head, and the witch looked back, mystified at her. It wasn't the first time the redhead had asked her that, and she made a slight 'hmm' sound as she continued to stare at Jade as if working to solve a math problem.

"What does it look like now?" Rupert, or Giles as he was called by Willow and most of the younger adults, asked from where he stood by the side of the room, his nose practically in a book. Willow had been explaining the tear in Jade as she saw it, as the older man couldn't see it himself.

"It's open. But inactive. I think. I don't know. Maybe Tara…" Willow stopped herself, looking helplessly at Jade, wringing her hands. She wanted to talk to Tara again, but nothing was happening. Willow had tried a couple of spells, but they had tired Jade out more than anything else. And hadn't worked in the slightest. But she hadn't been possessed again, not in the hour sitting in the room with Giles, Willow and Spike. Spike was looking less interestedly at the books, but even he was making an effort to flip through a few tomes.

"Maybe it's sealed up for good." Spike put in from where he stood. Jade's eyes were drawn to him. His black duster jacket was resting on the back of one of the chairs, and he was wearing a light gray longsleeved shirt that was tight over his muscled torso, a bit too distracting for Jade's liking. She shook the flustering thoughts from her head. This was serious.

"No. The tear's still there. Just like. A doohickey in front of it," Willow fluttered her hands, bewildered. She screwed up her face in concentration, and a sigh came from Giles' corner.

"Words, Willow. Describe it to me. What does it look like, this blockage? And you don't think it's permanent." Giles said, flipping through another page, looking exasperatingly at the book. Jade had offered to help research as well, holding a heavy book in her hands, but she didn't even know what she was looking for, and most of it wasn't even in English she could understand.

"Blockage. Very good word," Willow chipped in animatedly. "Oh, I don't know, Giles. I thought I knew magic, but…" She chewed her lip. "I don't understand it at all."

"And we've been here an hour," Giles sighed, glancing down at his watch. "Buffy will want us back in the meeting room."

"No, look," Spike spoke up, for which Jade felt a feeling of gratitude, although helplessness herself. Spike was trying to keep Giles and Willow around for a little while longer, keep them working on whatever it was, but they were getting nowhere, and there were other things to worry about. Things a lot bigger than her. "I'll go, distract Buffy for a bit. You keep working longer, yeah?"

"Well—" Giles took off his glasses, glancing up at the white-haired vampire. "I'm not sure if we—"

"Yeah, that's a good plan," Willow consented. "Tell her we'll be there in.. .twenty minutes. That might appease the general." She said the last part affectionately, not critically. Buffy and Willow seemed rather close. It made Jade a little jealous. She'd never really had a best friend that was a girl. She'd always had Bennett. He was the closest friend she could have, so much part of her life that she felt as if she had been missing half of herself after he died. More than half. And Jade didn't think Lyth counted. They weren't exactly die for each other type of friends, though Lyth had saved her and Spike. By killing her sister, but it was the thought that counts.

"'Preciate it, Red." Spike glanced back at her, nodding encouragingly, and then stepped out of the room. Jade flipped through a couple more pages, the three of them in silence. Willow muttered to herself, scribbling something on a piece of paper. Giles let out another light sigh, reading through another couple pages.

"I don't know why you need me, Willow. Your powers have only grown," Giles observed after a moment of quiet.

"No, that's not it at all, Giles. I still need you." Willow protested in a young-sounding tone, as if a child whose parent didn't want to read to her any more, citing she could do it on her own. "You still know more about this stuff than me."

"Not a lot of good it's doing. It would be nice if we could solve at least one problem, instead of having more pile up," Giles commented, with a bit of frustration in his voice, despite saying so calmly.

"You're not wron—Hey. The doohickey," Willow exclaimed suddenly, looking at Jade. Jade caught her gaze immediately, frozen with apprehension. "It's gone. Just the tear right now."

"Shouldn't that mean—" The older man's contemplative thoughts were interrupted by Jade. Still frozen, but then moving, not of her own volition, she felt an aura wash over her, not sweet and loving like Tara, a more mature, and then almost coquettish feeling taking over her.

"Hello Rupert," Jade said in a calm, coy voice. She saw all the wrinkles pronounced in Giles' face smooth, a look of bewilderment on his face, his mouth slightly open.

"Tara?" Willow tried, but there wasn't much certainty in her tone. Jade turned towards her with a light smile, shaking her head.

"No, Willow," she chided softly.

"Jenny." Giles said after a pause. He was staring avidly at her, not warm, not angry, but just careful.

"Here I am," Jenny-Jade confirmed. "It's been a while. Have you forgotten about me already?"

"Never, Miss Calendar," Willow reassured immediately. "I'm so sorry about… the whole Angel thing."

"But you figured it out, didn't you? You put back his soul. You were always a bright student, Willow. But you haven't been a student in a while. You're all grown up now. And you, Snobby." She turned her head towards Giles, who was still staring at her, perplexed. There was affection in her voice as she spoke the nickname. "You've gotten a lot older."

"Yes, well. It happens to us all," Giles finally spoke.

"Not to me," Jenny-Jade said, a bit softly. "But you wanted to see me, Rupert, and here I am. And I wanted to see you too."

"Should I… should I leave?" Willow asked, suddenly occurring to her that she was interrupting a lover's reunion, like her own the night previous, but Giles was shaking his head.

"It's quite alright, Willow. We needed to observe the process."

"R-right." Willow cocked her head back to her paper, and then to Jade, scribbling something else down.

"Don't want to be alone with me, Rupert? Is that anyway to treat a girl?" Jenny-Jade teased him, drawing her lips into a friendly smile. "Sorry to stir up old ghosts, then."

"No," Giles responded, a little quickly. "I am… thankful to talk to you again. I just find I don't quite know what to say. How much do you know of what's passed?"

"Some things I should, some I shouldn't. I'm not omniscient. But I know it isn't quite what I left. And Willow. This magic you're doing with this woman, it's just making the tear a little wider each time. You'll have to try something else. I don't know what." Jenny-Jade shook her head. "But the tear lets us bleed through from our spirit dimension. Gets a little wider each time someone goes through. But you wanted me here," She said again to Giles. "Am I going to get a proper goodbye?"

"I'm sorry for the way… things turned out. And what happened to you. Jenny, if I could have stopped it…" Giles had been careful with her, keeping himself at a distance, but the vulnerability showed through in his eyes. Jenny-Jade reached out, taking her hand in his.

"Shh. It's okay now. I know all that. I just wanted to see you. And while I don't know how this tear happened, I know it started in a spirit dimension. Hopefully that helps. I've got to go. So, now. Here it is. Goodbye Rupert," Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, and he stayed still, letting her.

Jade regained control of her body to feel it go limp. She toppled downward, caught at the last second by Giles, who held fast to her, supporting her weight until he could lean her back in the chair. "Are you alright?" He asked her, keeping care to keep the suspicion from his eyes and put consideration in there instead. Jade nodded, a little numbly. Her forehead felt sticky, and she wiped the sweat off with the back of her hand, noticing her fingers were trembling.

"Another old friend?" She asked, her throat hoarse. Willow wordlessly offered her a bottle of water, while glancing to Giles, who merely frowned, looking contemplative.

"Perhaps. Using our loved ones against us… this wouldn't be the first time." He glanced meaningfully at Willow.

"The first evil?" The redhead asked. "Yeah. The claiming to speak for the dead definitely rings familiar. But I don't know, Giles. I think that was really Tara I talked to last night. And that felt… and sounded like Miss Calendar."

"Yes, well. We can't rule anything out. Our options are quite varied at the moment." Giles sighed, looking introspective, and maybe even a tad remorseful, but he hid it well. Jade took a deep gulp from the water bottle, screwing the cap back on.

"I don't really like the sound of first evil," Jade said after a moment.

"Not to worry. There are… other options. That one is first and foremost in our minds. It was not a restful time." Giles said, running his hand along his jaw. "But as it is, we have other things to do today." He glanced at Willow.

"Yeah. Mystery central," Willow agreed. "I just wish…"

"Now hold on a minute," An irate voice sounded on the other side of the door, and Spike burst in, following an even more aggravated Buffy. "Give them a chance to—"

"Plenty of chances. Of time. There are other things to worry about, Spike," Buffy said pointedly. Willow glanced up at the blonde Slayer a little guiltily.

"Coming on back, chief," Willow spoke, to which Giles rose his eyebrows, nodded his head and sighed, all in one very fluid, practiced notion.

"Well, while I'm here," Buffy spoke in an irritated tone, that made Jade think Spike had prodded her to try, "Have you found anything out?" She gestured to Jade, while Spike stepped over to the sitting Slayer, his dark eyebrows raised.

"You look worn out. Have another visitor from the beyond?" He asked her in a quiet murmur. Jade nodded, her eyes half-lidded.

"Not so much, I mean we have but—woah." Willow's eyes widened a bit, looking back at Jade, at the tear only her with her mystic eyes could see. Jade wished she could have the same spell on herself, to see just what Willow was looking at, but perhaps it was best to have as little magic cast on her as possible for the time being. "That little…blockage is back."

"Well, she did just have…a session." Giles added, hesitating for a lack of a better word. He had stood up, his hands fluttering around his book. "Perhaps that is why."

"I don't know. I don't think… Spike. Leave the room." Willow said, with sudden inspiration.

"Bit rude, innit?" Spike said incredulously, to which Willow shot him an imploring look.

"Please? Just for a minute." Spike let out a light sigh, stepping past Buffy, who shot an him an impatient glance, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she glowered in Jade's direction. She was clearly not happy about giving up her 'generals' for his little detour. Jade's head hurt to think about it, looking at Willow as she gazed at her, watching a triumphant look pass on the witch's face.

"I've got it! Well, part of it." Willow amended after Spike had left the room. "I think I know what the little doohickey is. Spike, you can come back in. Aha!" Spike returned obediently, crossing his own arms in front of his chest. Made his muscles bulge all the more. God, Jade was tired, if her thoughts were drifting like that. She tried to focus on the excited witch instead. "Spike's the doohickey."

"What did you just call me, Red?" Spike looked affronted and rather confused. Buffy made an impatient noise in her throat, and Giles simply stared.

"Care to elaborate, Willow?" Giles asked, patience laden in his tone.

"Well, from what the spirits have said… counting for the fact that they're not the first evil, this happened to Jade recently. Spike said they were sucked into a dimension, but there are more than just hell dimensions."

"Like a Spirit dimension, as Jenny—er—Miss Calendar said," Giles nodded, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "So you believe something came back with them, with Jade?"

"Hitchhikers from other dimensions. Not as uncommon as you think," Willow said, still in her happy explanation mode.

"Hang on," Spike interrupted. "I was in that dimension too. How come I'm not all possessed?"

"Oh please tell me I'm not going to have another crazy Spike on my hands," Buffy groaned. "Once was quite enough. More than enough. Over enough."

"Yeah, I get the point," Spike muttered at her.

"Well. Tara said something too. Which makes sense. Jade's a living thing. That's what the spirits need, a living connection to get through. So they can't use Spike, since he's already dead." Willow explained. "And, not only that. I think he actually repels them." She turned to Jade. "Have you had the spirits take over you while Spike was in the room with you?"

Jade shook her head slowly. "No, I haven't. He might even make it stop when he comes close. I think it happened at least once, he came into the room and it was over. I could be wrong. It was brief."

"There we go. It's-it's not a solution, by any means. But it's a start. Spike stays near you, and and you don't have to worry about multi-personality disorder." She tried to comfort Jade, noticing Jade's slower nod. "And we will figure this out, don't worry."

"Perfect. Slap them together for a while, crisis averted. We can get back to the big problem we have on our hands," Buffy interrupted, clapping her hands together, the once.

"It might not be that simple, Buffy," Giles was beginning to say.

"It's alright. I understand. I'm fine, really. I don't mean to be a problem." Jade spoke up, her tone even.

"You're not. Well, you are, but it's not your fault," Willow said with a reassuring smile. "And I will check on you in a bit, okay? We'll get this figured before too long. And I'll bring Sophie. Some of the girls are babysitting her right now, but she was excited to hear you were here. I'll come around in a few hours. Or a while." She amended after a glance from Buffy. Jade nodded.

"Sounds good," She said. She glanced over to Spike, who hadn't said anything, a quizzical look on his face, his brow furrowed. His thinking face, as Jade had determined it.

"You're alright with staying?" Willow said, a little softly to Spike as Buffy and Giles left the room. Spike nodded without looking at Jade.

"'Course," the vampire said. Willow gave another encouraging smile to Jade as she bobbed out of the room. Jade ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the tangles there.

"Sorr—" Jade started to say, to apologize for the disgruntled expression on Spike's face. She tried to stay away from the piteous feeling of being a problem again, but there it was, nagging at her. She was being possessed with Spirits, and now she had the exact opposite of a restraining order with Spike. He _had_ to stay nearby. She didn't want to force him to do anything or be anywhere he didn't want to.

"Don't apologize, you git," He snapped back, brusquely, and Jade stopped as he said. She felt a pang. He _was_ angry. "It wasn't your fault we got sucked in to that bloody dimension, now was it? You were helping me with the Doc, that was the only reason you were there."

Jade stared at him, realisation and a little bit of disbelief fettering through her. He felt guilty. Felt bad that this was happening to her. "It's alright—"

"It's not alright," He retorted. "I can hear it all. Your heart's beating weaker. You're tired, and you're breathing heavy. Been that way since last night, and it's getting worse."

"Just takes a bit out of me is all. Spike, I _wanted_ to help you with Doc. You didn't force me along, you asked and I said yes. I'd do it again, possession or not. And don't forget, you nearly got dusted because of me and my problems. So we're even on the endangering front. I don't regret it, so don't worry about it. And you happen to know the best people for reversing it, so I don't have that much to worry about." Jade countered with more vehemence than she thought she could gather. Her voice sounded stronger, and she was determined. Spike looked back at her, slightly bewildered, but at least he wasn't angry. He relaxed a little.

"Guess we do find trouble easily, don't we?" He spoke more mildly, although there was still a tenseness to his muscles.

"Never boring," Jade agreed, smiling a little. He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

"Come on, let's head over to the cafeteria. Get you some human food. Not that it really reaches the mark. Ton of broads here, and no-one can cook." He made a comical face, and Jade let out a short laugh.

"Those broads will kick your ass if they hear you saying that," She warned him, pushing up from her chair. She was slow and unsteady, and he noticed, his eyes narrowing only lightly, but he hid it well.

"They can try."

"I'm fine. It works out better this way. Get my sleeping schedule back to normal, and you aren't trapped for the day _and_ night. I'll be sleeping." Jade said to Spike as he lingered in the doorway of the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. She was feeling better. They hadn't done anything extraneous all day, for which she was grateful, but she figured it would be damn boring for Spike. Thankfully, the vampire hadn't complained. Since the Slayers were also suffering from cabin fever, as Buffy wasn't letting anyone leave the hotel in groups smaller than twenty, Jade and Spike had watched them train. Jade was tempted to, and one of the Slayers, the one in charge of the training, a redhead named Vi, who was perky and nice, had invited Jade to join, but Spike had declined for her, saying she was weak. And he wasn't wrong. The visitations of Tara and Miss Calendar—Jenny—had really put a strain on her. She hoped it was temporary, and that good rest would clear it up. At least with Spike there, she didn't have to worry about it getting any worse. Didn't stop her from feeling guilty that she was hindering him, but he didn't complain, even remarking how he wasn't one for the researching talking gig anyway, and while there was still no action to send him towards, he was just fine playing nursemaid.

But he was still hesitant to leave her. Jade knew he _wanted_ to go. Why wouldn't he? Staying guard all night during the hours where he could move along freely was one hell of a buzz kill. So saying she was tired, which wasn't a stress of it at all, they had returned to Jade's guest room. She was sitting down on the bed as Spike hesitated, finally nodding his head in acquiescence.

"Right. Get yourself some sleep, then. You look bloody pale still."

"Says the vampire," Jade returned cheekily, earning a light smirk from Spike.

"And as a vampire, I'm _supposed_ to be pale. What's your excuse?"

"Genes, and no palette between white albino and tomato red, so lots of sunscreen and indoors."

"Right," he said with a bit of a snicker, shaking his head a bit at her. At least she could make him laugh, though it was at her more than with her. It'll do. He shut the door behind him as he left, and Jade let herself fall back onto the covers for a few moments. She really was worn out. But she hadn't gotten much of a break lately, ever since Spike had shown up. Heck, before that. Bailey was there all on her own. So it was Slayer fight to Doc fight to dark shadow dimension fight to demon draining to secondary doc fight, although admittedly, she didn't do much for the second one, and then fighting Spike due to sisterly possession. Her chest raised with a wry laugh. Definitely not boring. Thank god for her Slayer healing and endurance. If she was plain human she'd be in bed for a week. Or more. Jade brought her fingers across her neck. A much smaller scab was covering it, and it didn't ache nearly as well. Thank you Slayer healing again.

But it couldn't help everything, like the way she felt after each spirit reared its head. And they hadn't done much except talking, but she felt so worn out. Each time it happened she was whammied with a whole lot of feelings and thoughts, and memories, and it was wearing on her body. And her spirit, and mind. The whole trifecta. She pulled off her jeans, her shirt long enough to cover half her thighs just in case, but she was not sleeping in those again. When she had shared the room with Spike that had been uncomfortable enough, but she hadn't dared strip down with him in the room. And even now, she kept that modesty with her, just in case someone burst into the room, she didn't like showing that much skin. She bounced underneath the covers, lulled by the comfort and warmth, and with her weariness, it didn't take her long to fall asleep.

She woke sometime in the early night. It was still dark out, but lightening somewhat, and she had an overwhelming urge to pee. She threw off her blankets and headed into the bathroom. She was still tired, but the sleep had helped. She glanced at the mirror as she washed her hands. She still looked pretty terrible, but that was also due to the not so great lighting for her pale-ass skin. She glanced out the window, where the blinds were mostly covering it, except for a crack, so that Spike wouldn't get burned alive when he came into the room if there was still sunlight. Sun would be up in about an hour. Jade glanced to her door, looking out through the peephole. The hallway was empty, which wasn't too surprising for this time of morning/night. She was tempted to head out, but she had to wait for Spike. Trying to find him wasn't an option, at least not a smart one. She had to stay here, alone and without anyone that the spirits would be tempted to hijack her for. She was about to take her eye away from the peephole when suddenly she heard a voice. She didn't recognize it, a male.

"Yeah, I'll be right down there in a couple minutes. Just going to remind the girls that bacon is something that can be served every breakfast," A man was walking down the hall, speaking to someone, although Jade could only hear a muted reply that got further away. The man however, was moving nearer to her door, passing it casually. He had thick brown hair, and an eye-patch, which was probably what gathered her attention the most. He was whistling to himself. Jade didn't know who he was, hadn't met him, but then she felt an overwhelming urge of familiarity, and her hand immediately reached for the lock, pulling the door open, Jade's inward refusal negated as she no longer had control of any of it anymore, her mouth, her words, her body. She shunted out into the hall a bit clumsily, and the one-eyed man turned towards her after he jumped a bit, startled.

"Oh, hello there. Give a man a heart attack, why don't you," He said a bit uneasily, but with a more easygoing, reassuring smile.

Jade took a deep breath, glancing down at her body and pulling her long shirt just a bit more down her thighs, smoothing out the inevitable wrinkles. She looked placidly at the man, and then frowned, screwing up her lips in a displeased fashion. "Xander, it's me." She spoke with some irritation, and the man named Xander stared at her, a bit clueless now. He moved his head in a circular gesture, lips moved in a flat line as his eyebrows arched.

"You, who?" He spoke, then snickered a little bit. "Cindy-loo? I get it. I'm a genius. You can laugh too." He looked back at her, still unassuming, bobbing his head a bit awkwardly as Jade stared back, impatient now. She put a hand on her hip, flipping her hair. Such long hair, though it was tangled and rather messy.

"It's Anya, you idiot. Who else would it be? I came all the way here, and you don't recognize me because it's not my body. Well if that's the exact opposite of true love I don't know what it is." She spoke in a snappish way, and then Xander's jaw dropped, realisation taking over his face.

"Anya. Willow did mention…Oh, jeez."

"Jeez? _Jeez?_ I'm here, after everything and you say jeez?" Anya-Jade snapped irritably. "Of all the _nerve_ —" Her voice rose a pitch, shaking her head. But Xander was calmer, managing to close his mouth and not having it hang open so much. Not the most attractive of gestures, but quite a usual one with him. He looked back at her, his voice soothing, a instructor's tone.

"Well, Ahn, honey. You've just yelled at me since you've, uh. Arrived."

"Well, of course I have. I have so much time to make up for. Since I wasn't here." Anya-Jade shook her head, as if stating the obvious.

"Ahn." Xander responded, evenly, calmly.

"Damn you Xander, I get angry so I don't get sad. You know that." There was an annoying tear trying to make its way into her eye, and she flicked at it impatiently, shaking her head, pouting out her bottom lip in exasperation.

"I do."

"That's all you can say? After all this time? No sweeping me into your arms?" Anya-Jade asked, indignant.

"You don't look like you. You kind of sound like you, but…"

"Well use your imagination, Xander. I'm here. Second guessing it, but I'm here."

"I'm glad." He said it after a moment's hesitation, but it looked genuine, a small, sad smile on his silly lips.

"Good." Anya-Jade sniffed. "I hoped you would be. Not that I thought all that much. There's not that much of the thinking, really."

"So you haven't seen Tara? Willow said she visited too."

"No, God no. It's not like we're gathering around a table throwing ideas at each other. Had enough of that in my human life, thank you. Had a lot more to my life than you scoobies you know. A long, long life. But no, there's not so much people there. Can't really explain it." Anya-Jade played with another wrinkle on her sleeve, making a tsk noise when it wouldn't flatten the way she wanted it to.

"I see. I'm glad you came. I wish… Well that is I really didn't get a chance to…" Xander was at a loss of words, looking at her with those puppy dog eyes.

"Ah, it would have just made it harder. Nope, it was quick and I was dead. Andrew lived, didn't he? That lucky little shrimp. Unbelieve that he made it and I didn't. So what have you been doing now, you demon magnet? I bet you moved on quick."

"Ahn." Xander reproached her, but gently.

"I know, I know. I'm jealous. For no reason. I'm dead. But it's hard, letting go. I loved you, I really did. I hated you for a long time, but that didn't make the love go any less. Just… made it hurt a little more. Do you think if I lived, we would be back together now?" She started out bitter and a little resentful, then her voice softened near the end.

"I don't know, Ahn." Xander shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know either. I mean, our sex, that was always fantastic. But apparently a good relationship needs something else a little lasting. But who really knows. Vengeance demon, not prophecy demon. So, come on. Tell me about your life, while I'm here. Tell me about my replace—tell me about your special woman. I won't judge. She's probably at least half demon, or partial demon. Maybe bug wings." She looked contemplatively up at the ceiling, screwing up her face in thought. Xander hesitated, then just nodded his head and spoke.

"Dawn." He said simply. Anya-Jade was continuing her spiel, listing off demons she thought might have entranced Xander when her head snapped back to him quickly, inattentiveness replaced by focus, her eyes widening in disbelief, lips parted in a small o.

"Or like—Dawn? Xander, she is a child. That is disgusting."

"Couple years have gone by, Ahn. She's grown up." He shrugged his shoulders, but there was no masking of the affection in his tone.

"Ew. Not any less disgusting. Ew. Ew." Anya-Jade blanched, sticking out her tongue.

"Ahn." Xander sighed.

"Oh, no judging. Right. Well I am happy you've found someone. One that was just a child when we were together. Just don't leave her at the altar. That is a terrible thing to do to someone."

"I won't. Ahn, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being ready back then. For pretending that I was. It was wrong to do to you." Xander sighed, looking remorseful. Anya-Jade reached out with a hand, reaching for his arm, and giving him a squeeze that was actually meant to be more reassuring than painful, though it was with a Slayer's strength.

"Yes it was. But it's okay now, because I'm dead. And I really do forgive you. Part of my moving on and not dwelling thing. But—" Anya-Jade's head was bobbing up and down, trying her best to sound sincere. A voice sounded from down the hall, angry and forceful.

"Hey, git! Get away from her." It was Spike, striding through the corridor with purpose, his eyes narrowed, looking considerably angry. Anya-Jade turned towards him with reflection, and then back to Xander, quickly.

"Oh. It seems like I have to go. This is good bye, Xander. I wish you the best. Well. I was the best. So I wish you slightly less than best." She barely managed the last word, and her eyes rolled back. Jade felt cognizant again, just barely, feeling like a hole was ripped right through her, deep in her bones. Her legs wobbled, and could no longer hold her up at all. She plummeted to the ground, dimly aware of Xander trying to catch her before she did so.

"Catch her, you bloody nimrod." Spike snapped as he strode up to the both of them, where Xander was half crouched, his arms around Jade in a clumsy attempt to keep her from hitting the floor. He had stopped the descent barely, and now struggled to lift them both back up.

"Stay away, catch her, will you make up your damn mind, Spike?" Xander retorted to the vampire before looking back at Jade. There was some bewilderment in his gaze, uneasiness there as well. Spike stepped in, wrapping an arm around Jade and letting her lean into him instead, glaring belligerently at the one-eyed male.

"You alright, there, Slayer?" Spike asked Jade in a murmur. She was a bit numb, slow to react. Too many things all at once. She nodded, dimly, and Spike turned back towards Xander. "Thought you'd fancy a night-time visit, did you? Go and see your long lost demon lover? Don't you have the Bit at home? Isn't that enough?" Spike sounded angry—he was angry.

"Hey now, that's not it at all." Xander protested, defensive. "I was just walking past the door."

"Likely story," Spike snorted.

"It's true." Jade breathed softly. "It's true. I was just looking out the peep-hole, and Xander was walking by. By, not to," She asserted more firmly. "Then I was opening the door against my will. Sorry about that," She murmured to Xander. "I'm Jade, by the way," She added as an afterthought, an embarrassed smile on her lips. Her hands were still shaking and she balled them into fists. She was aware of Spike holding her to him, almost protectively, and the feel of his muscled shoulder against her back. And his arm was supporting her by being wrapped around her waist. Oh dear. She blushed a little, looking down at her mostly bare legs. Thanks, Spirit, she thought sarcastically. Couldn't run to get some pants, could you? Spike looked down at her, a little gruff, seeming more than willing to tear another piece out of the one-eyed man if he could. He noticed the color on her cheeks, and wordlessly shifted his position, drawing her close arm over his shoulders instead, moving his hand to rest on her far shoulder instead of her hip. She wished she could tell him that she could stand by her own, but her legs still felt weak, not responding to her commands. Not that she didn't like being this near to him, but it was a little too close. Hard to think properly.

"Pleased to meet you." Xander said with an lively head nod, after shooting a triumphant, 'I told you so,' look at the white-haired vampire. "So you're our resident Xchange. That's a movie. Body hijacking," Xander added a little unadroitly.

"That's me." Jade nodded. "For now."

"Don't you worry. Willow will fix you up good. It's just been a little crazy right now," Xander added in reassuringly, doing a good job at ignoring the glaring vampire. Jade didn't think it had anything to do with her. She sensed a bit of antagonism between Spike and Xander, and more than that, she felt like she had experienced it a little. With all the visitors, Tara, Jenny and Anya, she felt more flashes, more information, little bits and pieces of memories that weren't his. No, she wasn't able to write a biography on Xander any time soon, but she could understand him a bit better. This would almost be worth it, the insider's look, if her head didn't throb so badly and her vision blur. And there was the matter of not being able to stand without support. It was aggravating. She was a Slayer. She was strong, so strong, more than any normal human. And she was strong for a Slayer, her sister had never skimped on the training, as deplorable as it was. She was out of practice yes, but she was still strong. Powerful. She hated feeling like this, weak and feeble. Like a human woman who barely passed a hundred and ten pounds. But it wasn't the time to be haughty and superior. She just needed to rest, to avoid confrontations like the one she just had, and get better.

"Should get you back to bed, Slayer," Spike told her, less of a suggestion and more of a command, but she wasn't in the position to argue, and she didn't want to shoot him a look, feeling that Xander would jump all over that, and she did just want to sit down.

"Nice to meet you. Sorry it had to be like that," Jade floundered awkwardly, not sure how to broach on the subject of a dead ex. She'd think she would have some experience on the matter, but the body possession thing was taking it to a whole other level.

"No, no. Thank you for the opportunity. Okay, Spike. I'll get out your hair." He flashed another friendly smile at Jade, and then a narrowed glare at Spike before hurrying his way down the hall. Jade heard Spike's muttered "Wanker," under his breath as the vampire maneuvered Jade back into her room.

"Now, what have we learned?" Spike spoke in a patronizing tone, but Jade was too tired to take offense. Spike sat her on the bed, cupping a hand on her back to support her as he gathered pillows for her to lean against. It was strangely considerate of him. She had seen the battle Spike, the one who loved the violence, found glee in it, the Spike who was humorous and snarky, but this gentle Spike was a whole different ballgame, and she didn't know how to react to it.

"Stay away from windows and peepholes?" Jade said wearily as she lowered herself into the pillows. "I really didn't mean to—"

"Yeah, well, obviously can't leave you alone," Spike said his almost acerbic tone undoing his tenderness as he sat back into a chair. He was comfortable in the shadows, sitting there as Jade pulled the blankets over her once more.

"I guess not," Jade said with a weary sigh, shooting him a guilty smile. "Sorry."

"Yeah, well. When you rest up a bit, we can at least leave this damn room. Not one much for cells, dressed up fancy or not."

"Deal. And do you think… when we're out, could we find some paper and pencils? If I'm going to be bed-ridden for a while, it would be nice to get some drawing done."

He was silent for a moment, then glanced at her, although she could barely see it, only through the trace of light coming up into the room. "Yeah," he agreed after a moment. "Could manage that."


	39. Chapter 38

**38**

Jade wasn't getting any better. Anyone could see that. A fool could see that, and Spike being very far away from a fool—at least where Buffy wasn't concerned, could see it like the light of day. Well see the light of day and not let it burn him. Despite sleeping most of the night, she slept most of the morning as well. And Spike, well he wasn't good with the just sitting. Thank god for the telly in the room, and that someone actually paid the cable bill. Be just like Buffy to declare TV a distraction. But then the broad couldn't watch her reality TV then could she. People shopping for fancy clothes and singing on stage. Buffy ate that crap right up. Mostly the outfit stuff. 'Course it took a backseat, like everything did, to the slaying. Nothing much important, 'cept for that. And whatever crisis on the go took front seat. Willow came around noon, but she hadn't stayed for long, citing nervously that Buffy needed her and for Jade to hang in there. Jade had given her a reassuring smile, and after that, they had left the room to go for a walk. Get some fresh air, get a smoke. She was doing better as the evening went on, but damn if he didn't remind her as a sick patient, and that got him thinking about his mum again. She'd gotten sick, kept getting sicker, and there was nothing he could do about it. So simple solution, turn her into a vampire. Well that had bloody backfired. He looked at Jade. Wouldn't make that mistake again. There was nothing good without the soul. Wasn't anything the same at all.

Not to mention, any Slayer changed wouldn't be no ordinary Vampire, nope, not at all. Stronger, faster, more bloodthirsty than both Slayers _and_ vampires. The best of both worlds. And the worst. Spike hadn't met any of these hybrids face to face, thank God. But so many Slayers in the world, it was bound to happen eventually. And it would not be a fun ride. Talk about a slaughter. And that was something he didn't want to think about, all these Slayers getting ripped to bits by a foe far stronger and faster than them. He didn't want to think about what it would do to Buffy. Losing her Slayers to some unknown force was bad enough. He could see her breaking, little stress points all over her. But he wasn't there to reassure her, comfort her. That was alright. Wasn't his job. Buffy wouldn't let it be. So the bint could deal with it herself, as she tried to do. Sure, she had the Scoobies, but snobby Slayer Buffy always acted as if the world itself was on her shoulders…

God, he was bitter today. It started with leaving Jade alone in the first place. She had said it'd be fine, she'd be out for a kip and he could go about without restriction. So he'd had talked with Buffy and her generals a bit, more damn planning and brainstorming, nagging at Willow to see if she had anything new. Then he had spent rest of the night just whatever he wanted, playing cards with Gunn and Gwen, Illyria too, though she didn't grasp the concept of the 'silly game'. But he had been heading back to the room before it was too long and there was bloody Harris, chatting it up with Anya in Jade's body. Putting Jade in danger. It had right pissed the vampire off, even though the both of them claimed it hadn't been on purpose. But the fact that it was Harris, who Spike never got along with that well anyway, well he was happier than hell to put his foot down. Xander would have done the same thing. And so he had deferred to Spike's stance, for the first bloody time in his life, and walked on his way. It had left Jade as frail as a kitten. What a wanker. He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it had bugged him for the rest of the day, more than it should.

It was nighttime again, and Jade was back asleep, and Spike was staying in the room this time. She had been quietly drawing for most of the evening while he had been watching his soaps, and he was tempted to see just what she had scrawled on that parchment when there was a quiet knock on the door. With a quick look at the bed to make sure Jade hadn't heard it and stirred, the vampire shut off the tv—which had been on the lowest setting not to wake her, thank God for vamp hearing. He strode over to the door, a bit irritated. If Willow had decided that _now_ she had time, well it was a bit late, wasn't it? The sick Slayer needed all the sleep she could get. But as he opened the door, a different face greeted him. She was tall, just a couple inches shorter than him, but damn if she wouldn't always be the fifteen year old he had met six years ago.

"Dawn," Spike said with surprise. The woman's face broke into a smile, and she hugged him, fiercely and without inhibitions. She had always been a bit more appreciative of him than anything else. Hit a rough spot for a while, after Spike attacked her sister… couldn't blame the bit for that one, not at all, but she had forgave him eventually. There had always been a bit of a bond between them, as much as Spike had tried everything not to have it form. He had been a big bad vampire, after all. Okay, a neutered vampire with a chip, but still the big bad. And she was always there, grinning at him like he was the best thing since blood in a bag. Visiting his crypt, claiming that he wasn't scary! Yeah, those were the charms of Buffy's little sis. And they had bonded right up, after Buffy had died. A promise to Buffy meant he'd do anything to keep Dawn from harm, to keep her safe. But she was her own woman now. He had only seen her once or twice since the Hellmouth. Dating Xander, that was a big mistake, but she was going to university, and Buffy was bloody proud of her. That said, that was why Spike figured she wasn't here at the big Scoobie meeting. That she'd stay with the Slayers they had in their Toronto Base so she wouldn't miss any classes. But here she was, beaming up at him

"Hi," Dawn grinned. "Are you glad to see me, or what?" Spike briefly returned the hug, an awkward clap on her shoulder before gesturing a finger to his lip, and closing the door to Jade's room behind him, moving them back out to the hall. Dawn's eyes lingered to the closed door and then back to him, the smile still firmly in place.

"Always, little Bit. Thought you had some classes or something like that?" He questioned. She was looking all put together, her hair up, extra dangly on the earrings, although she had replaced her teenager's desire for lip gloss, lip gloss and more lip gloss to go with muted lipstick instead.

"They ended. It's the weekend. I had a couple days, so I thought I should come here," She spread her fingers, looking up at him innocently. "See Buffy. See you. See if I could help out with the big bad."

"Make sure your man wasn't getting too friendly with the locals?" Spike supplied. Dawn blushed a little but shook her head.

"No, not too worried about that. After all, he's surrounded by girls _all_ the time. I'd _never_ get any sleep if I was thinking about that. But no, just here for a couple days and then heading back on Monday. Hopefully with Xander, if they can sort out this whole thing. Don't think it's going to be that easy, though.." Dawn let out a sigh.

"Inclined to agree with you, nibblet. This sort of thing isn't going to blow over. Something not right behind it." His eyes narrowed a bit, and Dawn looked up at him, nodding. She always trusted him, took his words as if they were gold. If he had a theory, most of the time she fully backed it. She chewed on her lip after a few seconds passed, looking as if she was going to ask something, but wasn't quite forthcoming enough to blurt it. Trying the tact maneuver, eh? But Spike knew her well enough, was observant enough on his own to form a suspicion.

"You didn't just pop by here to speak to me, did you," He drawled with realisation, and absolutely hitting it on the spot. Dawn looked at him a little guiltily.

"Willow, Buffy, we skype a lot, you know? Well, I was videocalling Willow yesterday and she told me about… your friend. And what she can do."

"This isn't something she can do," Spike warned. "This is something that's been done to her."

"I know. I know that. And Willow did warn me that it might not be the people we remember. But she does think it was Tara that spoke to her. And she has a feeling for that stuff. So if she thought she really did talk to Tara, I thought that I…"

"You want to use Jade to talk to your mum." Spike finished, deadpan. Dawn winced, contrite, as she looked up at him and nodded.

"Please, Spike. I-I haven't seen her in so long. And I never really got to say goodbye."

"Seems to be the theme here, doesn't it." Spike muttered under his breath. "Nibblet, It's not that easy. Not that easy on Jade. This thing, it's killing her. The more she does it the worse she gets. Now as Red still hasn't managed to find a bloody solution, I can't willingly risk her to more."

"Please," Dawn pleaded. "Willow will find a solution, I know she will. But then I won't have a chance. I just want to talk to her for five minutes. Five minutes, Spike. Please. You were willing to get sliced up by a Ghora demon last time for me."

"This is bloody different," Spike shot back, barely contained anger in his voice.

"How?" Dawn said, her voice close to a whine. "How is it different? You were willing to do anything."

"This is putting another bloody person's life at risk!" Spike snapped. "So you can have a cuppa with your mum."

"Five minutes." Dawn whispered. "Please. I miss her so much. Can you ask… ask this.. Jade, at least?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because she'll take one look at you and her bleeding heart will agree. And that's not right, Dawn." Spike argued, feeling frustrated. But she really was being to wear him down. And it was true. He could claim that most of the good things he had done back then when he had the chip on his head was because he loved Buffy and just wanted her to want him back. But helping the little Bit try to resurrect her mum? That was the one thing he had done completely selflessly. Because he cared. And all she was asking for was five minutes. Damn it. Damn him for knowing Jade well enough to want to protect her. He let so few people in, if it were anyone else, he'd let Dawn in a second.

"Then she'd let me. So it's just you." Dawn said excitedly, then a bit somberly. "Please, Spike. I just… I just want to tell her that I graduated, that I'm in university and halfway done my degree. That's it." Her damn eyes began shimmering with tears, and normally he'd think she was just conjuring them up to get to him, but damn they were genuine. Just five minutes. And what if it made Jade worse, like he knew it probably would. What if it killed her? Damnit. He had guilt on both sides.

"Fine. You can ask her. But if she says no, you bloody leave it alone." Spike snapped. Damn him, giving into Dawn. The annoying little sister of Buffy that had wormed her way into his heart. Damn the Summers girls for making him love them when he didn't want to.

"I will. Oh, I will. Thank you, thank you." There was that squeal in her voice as she smiled brightly, almost jumping up and down. So alike the young girl from years ago, she hadn't changed all that much. Spike nodded his head with a sigh, opening the door to let them both in. He was surprised to see the bed table lamp was already on, and Jade was sitting up in bed instead of sleeping. He had woken her. He felt guilty. Guilt, again. Think he could feel enough of it in the last five minutes, but by all means, lay on another thick slab. Jade was looking between Dawn and Spike expectantly. There were circles under her eyes, paler than ever, but she smiled softly at Dawn.

"Hi," Jade spoke to the other woman. They were about the same age, from what Spike could tell, though he had never asked Jade how old she was. From what she said about that cruciamentum bollocks she was probably a little older than twenty one. Extremely young, really, but for some reason she seemed ages older than Nibblet. And even more so now, her face drawn and sallow, frail and trembling. Reminding him of his mum again, goddamnit. Watching another woman sick abed, nothing he could do about it. Couldn't stop making the connection between the two women, his mum and the Slayer before him. Their sickness, his helplessness. It was absolute bollocks and he hated it. And he hated himself, for letting the Bit talk to Jade, knowing that it would make her worse. It had enraged him, seeing Xander with Jade, but Spike was just as bad. Worse, even, because this wasn't an accident. He was allowing it to happen, because it was Dawn. Not just because she was Buffy's sister—though lord knows that had been reason for plenty of his amity in the past, but because he genuinely cared for Nibblet, the younger sister he'd never had.

"Hi." Dawn spoke with the same trepidation, the determination in her voice now halted by anxiety and hesitation. She was seeing Jade for herself, and now she was feeling guilty. But the little bit missed her mum, there was no doubt about that. She'd do what she had to to talk to her again. She crouched awkwardly near the bedside so she wasn't standing over Jade, until Spike hurriedly and impatiently shoved one of the chairs near Dawn so she could sit next to the bed. "I'm Dawn. Buffy's sister."

"Oh." Jade said in a light sigh. "I've seen bits of you. In Tara and Anya's memories. But didn't know exactly who you were. I'm Jade." Her lips were cracked as she spoke, and Spike reached habitually towards the bedside table, opening the waterbottle and handing it to Jade. She glanced up at him once, those clear blue eyes fixating on his face with gentle gratitude as she took a long draught.

"The Bit has a question for you, Slayer." Spike said gruffly. No need to drag this out, like two little girls who were too damn polite to get to the point. Just get it over with, so Spike could stop feeling like an arse. He took the waterbottle away from Jade as she finished with it, setting it back on the table. Jade looked back at Dawn, her expression indifferent, but not unkind, waiting patiently. She was no fool, that Slayer. She knew what Dawn had come for. Why else would anyone talk to her, really. She definitely hadn't been welcomed into the group with wide arms. Wasn't all Jade's fault. She walked the lone wolf bit, and a bit socially recluse, and ad a habit of pissing off every single alpha female in the vicinity, but she was giving as hell if they just took the time to realise it. No self-worth at all, but she was generous with what she had, and no inhibitions. Helped Spike against a dangerous demon just because he asked. And did everything she could to keep the both of them alive with they were fighting her sister. She cared too damn much for other people, and it was a pain. Gotten her into this mess, the stupid bint. Got her all wasting away.

"Yes. Uh. I was wondering. Since you, you know, can kind of bridge the gap, or the scientific term, which would be like a medium, really, although without the spirit ball and holding hands…"

"Bit." Spike warned.

"Right." Dawn cleared her throat, dipping her head. "Getting to the point," She muttered under her breath. She was anxious and hands flapping, so much like the younger girl. It was the thought of meeting her mum again, Spike knew. Made her feel like the teenager she was when she had lost her. "I was wondering if you could maybe… let me talk to my mother."

"Of course," Jade answered, too quickly, too certainly, and Spike glared at her. Did the bint even think twice? It was stupid, putting herself in danger like that. She glanced up and saw his disapproval. "Better try it now, before I can't anymore. Before Willow finds a way to turn it off," She explained, as she saw Spike's forehead deepen into a frown. That's right. She better not be admitting defeat this damn quick. But she corrected herself, and was right to do so. Willow would fix it. And once she did, Jade wouldn't have the chance any more. So he supposed it wasn't the worst reasoning in the world, but he knew what the underlying thought was, wasn't so stupid he didn't catch it. In case she died, Jade wanted to give Dawn a chance first. "But… Willow has told me about the First, and all he did, it did. She said it might not be your loved ones, although she thinks she is. Just. Disclaimer."

"That's fine. I mean, I get it. Thank you." Dawn reached out with genuine gratitude, reaching out and giving Jade's hand a quick squeeze. They smiled at each other, Bit's wider and brighter, and Jade's small but warm. They were bonding at least, but he hated the way it was happening. You arsehole, he thought to himself. Couldn't choose between the Slayer and the Bit so you defaulted. And by default, of course Jade would choose Dawn. He was tired of the Slayers' martyrdom, bloody tired of it. It was aggravating and concerning. And it twisted him up inside, worrying about Jade. Why couldn't it ever be simple, just a fighting partner, someone to revel in the violence and the adrenaline with him, instead of watching them waste away in a bed.

He was still standing there protectively, when Dawn cleared her throat and glanced at him pointedly over her shoulder. "You have to leave right?" Dawn hinted, not quite with the subtle, while Jade had been glancing at him surreptitiously. Spike sighed.

"Five minutes." He reminded Dawn. "And if it gets worse, you call me right away. I'll be listening." He promised. Dawn nodded back at him seriously, her eyes shining with thanks.

"Five minutes." Dawn repeated. "I promise."

He walked out into the hallway, very nearly slamming the door behind him. He was tense, and frustrated, and lit a cigarette within the halls of the hotel. If someone wanted to try to tell him otherwise they were going to get a hell of a snarky reply, but thankfully, the few who still wandered the halls left him alone. He didn't decide he was going to eavesdrop, but did so anyway and easily. Not that he wanted to spy on Dawn's private moment, but he had to listen in case something went wrong. And he could hear it, the thumping of Jade's heart that petered a little uncertainly but kept going at a steady enough rhythm, and then the change in her breathing. And then the words. He could tell from the epithets that it _was_ mama Summers, and the shrill shrieking in Dawn's voice meant she believed it too. It was a lot of darlings and sweethearts and I love yous and so proud of yous, and happy little whimpering from Dawn and a lot of sniffling too. He was almost teary-eyed himself. Joyce Summers had been a nice broad, a fair one. Treated him like a human being despite all he had done. She had been good, and she hadn't deserved to be torn away from her daughters like she had. But she sounded at rest, happy, in Jade's voice.

Five minutes weren't quite up when Dawn's voice sounded, louder, through the door, a shrill, "Spike!?" He slammed back in in a second, nearly taking the door off its handles. Dawn was holding Jade's hand, but her eyes were closed, her head off to the side. "She just…" Dawn was still post-crying mode, sniffles and tears muddling up her speech. "Stopped mid sentence and closed her eyes. Unconscious?" Dawn spoke, a high-pitched whisper, guilt in her tone. Spike was at Jade's bedside in an instant. The woman's eyes were closed, but he could hear her heartbeat, her slow breathing. She was alive, she was still alive.

"She's alive. Just fainted. Too much for her." Spike spoke, angry, but mostly at himself. Dawn pushed herself away from the bed so Spike could crouch there instead, and he gripped Jade's hand. "Come on, Slayer." He whispered to her, shaking that slim wrist of hers. She'd blacked out from the fatigue, that was all. But he was back now, the blockage. He never should have left. He was a stupid, stupid arsehole. Pushing her like that. But then her eyes were fluttering open, weakly but surely.

"You didn't call me Bloody Mary this time," She murmured at him, eyes glancing from how he was holding her hand back to his face.

"Because you don't have a speck of blood on you. Or even on your cheeks. Pale as a sheet," He retorted, relieved. "There's an method to nicknaming, Slayer, I don't just throw them out willy-nilly."

"Could have fooled me," Jade said with a smirk. Her eyes glanced back to Dawn, who was standing silently, still stricken, busily wiping tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry if you didn't get enough… time."

"No, no. Don't say sorry. You gave me enough," Dawn sniffed. "I got to tell her about school, and how well I'm doing in classes," tears sparkled in her eyes again, and she smiled sadly, but brightly.

"She's really proud of you." Jade assured her. Spike reached for the water again, making Jade take another long gulp.

"Enough talking from you," Spike ordered. Jade began to look petulantly at him, but it was more of a show than anything. "Sleep it off, yeah? I'll be back in a mo'. Just going to talk to Dawn for a sec. If idiot Xander tries showing up, you knock his block off, alright?"

"Sure thing." Jade answered obediently in a quiet whisper. Spike turned around to see Dawn's eyebrow arched, her lips pressed together in an distinctly haughty expression.

"Idiot Xander?" She asked disparagingly, and Spike knew he dug himself a bit of a hole with that one. No, this was no soft-bellied Summers girl, that was for sure. Wasn't about to let him roll over Xander while she was there. She was proud of the lummox, God only knew why.

"Expression," He said innocently, and herded her out of the room. At least she didn't have that guilty puppy-eyed face back on, though it returned as soon as they were back into the hallway, as well as accusation.

"You didn't tell me," She accused him. His eyebrow raised, answering irritation in his own voice.

"Tell you what, Pet? That Jade probably couldn't handle a visit from your mum. I bloody well did."

"No, not that." Dawn shook her head, strands of her straight brown hair falling in front of her face. "And I really am sorry about that. Jade seems really nice, and it was just like talking to my mom again. I really…really needed that. But I mean is you didn't tell me about you… and Jade."

"Are you off your rocker?" Spike snapped. "There is no me and Jade, stop looking like you figured out whodunit."

"Oh, come on, Spike. You're all concerned… looking at her like she's…well, special. I've only ever seen you look at—"

"Bit." Spike interrupted, his voice nearly a snarl. He didn't need this right now, didn't need to hear the name Buffy right now, as if he needed another goddamn reminder of the blonde Slayer. And there was Dawn, not grasping the big situation, looking at him all hopeful like. She didn't get it. Didn't get the seriousness of it all. "She's bloody dying. Puts up a good show and all that. I give a damn because she's not going to make it, and selfish visits from little girls aren't making it better." He was brusque, more sharp than he usually was with the Bit. But he was angry, frustrated. Worried.

"I'm not a little girl," Dawn looked hurt, the triumphant expression fading from her face. "I'm—I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it. It just seemed like…" She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "She'll be okay, Spike. She's a Slayer."

Spike nearly snapped at Bit that the only reason she wanted her to get better was so she couldn't feel guilt, but the same was true for Spike, and he'd be a bloody hypocrite if he yelled at her for that. "They aren't invulnerable," He reminded her, the anger seeping from his tone, leaving resignation instead.

"No. They aren't. But we have the best witch in the world, and she'll figure it out." Dawn spoke confidently, like the young woman she was. "And your…friend. She'll make it."

"Thanks, bit." Spike sighed, running his hand through his stiff, platinum blonde hair. "I hope you're right."


	40. Chapter 39

**39**

This wasn't any way for a Slayer to go out. She wasn't in the midst of blood and adrenaline, couldn't hear her heart hammering in her chest, or her breath coming hard to her lungs. Couldn't feel the power behind her muscles tensing, couldn't flip through the air like gravity had no whims. No, she could barely do anything at all, wasting away like her father before her, in a bed that she could barely on her own. Two more days had passed, and while her health hadn't plummeted, like with each spiritual visitation, it slowly, but steadily declined. She didn't feel like a Slayer anymore, she didn't even feel like a woman. She was weaker than that, fed to and cared for like a child. Thank god she could still manage going to the bathroom by herself, if Spike had to help her with that she would off herself from embarrassment. As it was, when she caught his introspective gaze across the room, she knew that things were bad, and 'offing herself', might not be in her hands anymore, but just as likely.

She busied herself by drawing dutifully on the paper that Spike had procured for her, more than she had in a while. She insisted Spike play on her Gameboy advance when he ran out of things to watch on TV, but he didn't need to be prodded much, enjoying it on his own. Maybe not quite enjoyment, but a delay on his boredom. And she knew how bored he must be, stuck in the room with her, afraid to leave her alone unless she walk out the door and find someone to talk to, lost to her body's whims. But she hated it, hated trapping him here, the beautiful vampire that deserved freedom, not tedium. And the only relief she could think of to that was that maybe he wouldn't have to stay for much longer. That if this was to continue the way she was going, she'd last a week at best.

Willow had come sparsely, but as often as she could. She was needed elsewhere. They had some breakthrough at the Scoobie circle, and now everything was pandemonium, trying to tie the loose strands together. Spike didn't know much, as he hadn't been included in the planning room. Jade knew even little. She felt that she was asleep more than awake. Spike told her it was good for her, that all she needed was rest, and he kept mentioning 'cuppa' this or 'cuppa' that. Endearing, if his concern wasn't so palpable. It wasn't the Spike she knew, this concerned, quiet, barely snarky Spike. He hadn't called her a bint, mocked her, only watched her with those unblinking blue eyes, observing everything. Seeing her in her weakest of existence. She hated it. He was strong, and he hid his vulnerabilities so well it was like they didn't exist. She was stronger than this, damnit. She almost had tears in her eyes at the frustration. She wanted to go out in a fight, not have the spirits tear away at her body until there was nothing left, wanting to be let out.

How ironic that they could only link in a live body, not Spike's dead one, and that to do so they would kill her. Stupidly ironic.

She'd hidden from the fight so long, after she had ran from Penelope, from her mother, from Bennett's grave, anything that reminded her of being a Slayer, she'd think she would accept going out this way. But she was a Slayer through and through. Fighting was in her blood. She couldn't avoid it forever. As evidence by her being here, now. Because she hadn't been able to hide away in Haven like she had naively expected. Drawn to the fight, good or bad. And now she was losing it. Slowly, so terribly slowly. Her fist tightened around her pencil, too tight. It should have snapped, and she would have lamented her overwhelming Slayer strength, and reached morosely for another pencil. But not even a crack. She _had_ lost it. She was even less than a normal human being now, and she wasn't noble or modest enough to not resent it. She was a Slayer, she took pride and delight in being special, in her power, as much as she tried not to let it get to her head. Power is as power does. Her lips twisted in a smile. A mash-up of Good ol' Uncle Ben and Forrest Gump.

"Something funny, Slayer?" Spike startled her, speaking from where he sat in his corner. He shouldn't—she knew he was always there now, but he was so quiet, so still. The TV had been shut off, and he played the Advance with no sound. He had been looking at her, the wry smile on her lips from her musings.

"Nothing, really." Jade said. She wasn't witty enough to say something funny, something to make him laugh. "Get to the second gym yet?" She asked, moving her pencil back onto paper, scratching at the parchment.

"Kicked his arse," Spike said smugly, but it was a front. She was starting to know him now, when he was play-acting and when he was sincere. He used humor as a mask, to hide what he was really thinking or feeling. He was pretending to be the normal, confident vampire he was, but there was a gap they couldn't quite cross. He hadn't mentioned that she was dying, though they both knew it. He was more and more aggravated every time Willow came and couldn't help, and she had woken up in the night, unbeknownst to him, to see him pacing. At any other time, she would be flattered that he cared, maybe let it nurture the forbidden spark of hope she had that he might have feelings for her, but she knew it was due to his guilt that he felt so strongly. He didn't want her death to be his fault. And it wasn't, but he would hold it anyway. The toll of having a soul. Jade knew the feeling. Bennett's death wasn't her call, but she took responsibility for it, and the five that he killed before she finally stopped him.

"What are you drawing now?" He asked, trying to make conversation she supposed, though she doubted it really interested him. She glanced down at what she had been scribbling and blushed. Him, his eyes, his cheekbones, the sharp edges of his face. As an artist, she liked drawing beautiful things, and Spike fit the mark.

"Dragons," She said quickly and flipped the page. She wasn't lying. She liked sketching the—mostly—mystical creatures, and she had a few figures drawn on the first few pages. But hidden in the middle of the book, she had embarrassingly slipped a few very quick sketches of Spike in there. She'd work on them later, if she wasn't so afraid he'd find out. A fact that she chided herself on. _What will it matter when you're dead?_ And then there was the inner voice that told her she couldn't give up yet. So she kept at the drawings of him, though surreptitiously. She didn't do it in an obsessive manner. He was pleasing to the eye, his arched eyebrows, that crooked scar that splayed his brow, the curves and lines of his face. He was just beautiful, and that was all. But if he saw it, he'd think her idiosyncratic, maybe even pathetic. And while those weren't thoughts she needed to concern herself with on her deathbed, she did anyway. What did it matter now?

But she couldn't give up, not quite yet, because she was a Slayer, and rolling over and dying wasn't going to happen. She'd wanted to, after she lost Bennett, her best friend since childhood, and after she'd realised her sister's betrayal. But she hadn't. And Spike wouldn't allow it either. He wouldn't let her talk about dying, and anyone who came to visit assured her someone would fix it soon. Even Sophie, when Willow had brought her to visit. Sophie reached out and held her hand, even though she knew Jade wasn't a hugger or a toucher, stubbornly saying that she had to accept it until she felt better. The young girl seemed vibrant and happy, with her surrogate mother witch, though as Willow smiled at her little prodigy, Jade could see the guilt in her hazel eyes whenever she tried another spell or sprinkled dust that didn't work. The witch was upset that she hadn't figured it out yet, and she had so much on her plate. A couple more Slayers had gone missing, mostly those that weren't part of the Organization, and Buffy had halted most of the outgoing tasks and missions, keeping Slayers to their respective bases until it was sorted. And now the Slayers were gathering for something big that both she and Spike had yet to hear about, and she glanced over at Spike. He must be wanting to go, be part of it. But he was stuck, and so was she.

"If you want to go, take a walk, I can turn on my mp3 and ignore everyone," Jade spoke after they fell into silence again. Spike glanced up at her, his expression unreadable, thumbs pausing on the Gameboy Advance. He wasn't snarky enough, or lippy. He was just quiet, introspective. So was Jade, really. All there was to do was think. And think, and think. And sleep, where dreams just came to her more.

"S'alright. Gunn said he'd be 'round soon, catch us up a bit." Spike spoke in an even tone, shrugging into his duster, his eyes shifting back into the screen. "Come on, quit missing, you ponce." He muttered under his breath, and Jade smiled at the Pokémon context.

"You said we'd fight someday," Jade blurted out after the quiet had gotten too unbearable again. "Want to give it a go?" She was half-joking, but half of her was serious somehow, almost pleading. Maybe just to make him smile, laugh. Something other than this waiting. He looked at her, his brow half-cocked, humor rather than incredulity on his face.

"Yeah, sure, Slayer. All I need is my little pinkie at this point." He flexed it, then looked back at his hand with an alarmed expression. "Not a metaphor." He burst out, quickly, defensively. "Just… not a metaphor. Not little. At all. Not even talking about that."

Jade barked out a sharp laugh. Not so much at his sexual innuendo, but his bluster that he tried to maintain, and how quickly he tried to correct himself. She smiled at him while he looked demoralized. "Arm wrestling, then." She tried again, and his expression shifted, something a little more pensive.

"Best not use up your strength, Slayer," He reminded her quietly. And she knew that. Knew that she should sit here like a good little patient, stay quiet and heal up. But she had for two days and she wasn't getting better. Instead of responding to him, she began to peel the blankets off of her. Jammies again, but at least this time she was wearing bottoms, just light sweats that covered her legs without making her too hot. Her legs were trembling as she swung them over the side, trying to build up strength in her arms to push herself up from the bed. Spike was there, then, instantly, quickly and as silently as a shadow. "Slayer," He said again, and she hated the gentleness in his tone. Spike wasn't gentle, he was fire. The only reason he was acting this way was to be kind. While she died. "Should rest a bit. Not tire yourself out."

"I'm fine. Been resting all day." Jade responded, a bit more snappishly than she intended. God, why couldn't she stand up? It was such an innate thing, yet such a struggle. And the bed, so traitorously soft and cushioning, just tried to lull her back into its reach. With a grunt, she finally managed to pitch herself upwards, her legs failing to lock. Spike was there, wrapping his hands around her arms like manacles and steadying her. She couldn't even stay standing without him to hold her. It was so infuriating.

"Slayer," He said reproachfully, his solemn, serious face looking down at her. He was the only thing keeping her standing at this point, and they both knew that. A light push, and she'd be tumbling back down at the bed that she probably shouldn't be leaving.

"I just want to go for a walk, or something. A short one." Jade mumbled, and tried to move past him. Damn her legs. Damn her shortness of breath. This wasn't fair.

"Best thing for you to do is rest," He repeated evenly, those soulful eyes looking down at her. Pitying her. Goddamn it, she did not want his pity. She hated it.

"I can stand on my own," She insisted, staring stubbornly up at him until he released her. She forced her legs to keep her standing, and though shaky, they supported her. As they should, easily, instead of turning standing by herself into an outstanding achievement. She was a Slayer, this should be easy. Her knees trembled, and she stepped over to the bedside table, resting her hand on it instead. Spike looked at her evenly, but didn't mention that she had traded one support for another.

"You got it, Slayer." He said instead, in a voice that wasn't meant to be patronizing, but the fact that he was congratulating her for being able to stand frustrated her beyond words. And he kept calling her Slayer. Not that he normally said her name, she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had heard him say it. He was fresh with the nicknames; crumpet, Bloody Mary, girl wonder. But Slayer dismayed her the most, that he'd call her that now, when she wasn't even close to what a Slayer should be, and it was all that was needed to crumble away the last of her reserve.

"I shouldn't be going out like this!" She blurted, what started as an angry retort turned into a sob. She ran her fingers through her hair, through her scalp, the tangled hair from being mushed into her pillow all day. "I shouldn't…" She was ashamed by the tears that gathered at her eyes. Ashamed to cry in front of Spike. She was strong, she knew that. She didn't need to prove it to anyone, but she liked knowing it was true in his eyes. And here she was, dying because of the dead, and crying because of her helplessness.

"Shh." Spike said to her, and she sucked in a breath that was beginning to sound like another sob. Stop, she could do that. She could hold it in instead of embarrass him further. She'd already reduced him to a nursemaid.

"Sorr—" She began to say, shakily, and then, unexpectedly, he had reached towards her again, pulling her towards him. Instead of toppling back, she fell forward, now encased by his arms, cold, sturdy muscle that held her. He was hugging her. Spike was hugging her. It took her a second for her brain to comprehend the embrace that was meant to comfort her, the feel of his cold body, his lack of a heartbeat. He was like stone, but he was moving. She very tentatively touched her forehead to his shoulder, and he didn't tense, didn't move. "Don't have to bottle it in," He told her, gruffly. "Think you've been brave long enough." So he wasn't telling her to hold it in, telling her to woman up and stop crying.

"I don't cry." Jade said, an absurd comment as a few tears rolled down her cheek. But no out of control sobs, it was silent now, more controlled. She teared up quick, but she could push it back if she tried. She let out a little, just enough. Needed to keep some part of her dignity intact. "I just… I'm the Slayer… a Slayer." She corrected herself. "I shouldn't be…"

"I know." He said, his voice slightly muffled. She felt a light pressure at her hair, and realised that it was him, gently stroking her hair to comfort her. It soothed her, the soft motion. He held her in silence. He wasn't trying to convince her that she'd be alright. She had seen it in his face each time Willow had come to visit. If there was something they could do, they would have done it by now. They were running out of ideas, and she was running out of time. So he just held her until her breath was even. She didn't want to detach herself from him. She could smell the soft scent of smoke, of booze, an iron tang, fresh nail polish even, since the downtime had given him time to redo his trademark black nails. His embrace was sturdy but not constricting, and she could feel the curved ridges of his pectorals, the tension in his abdominals through his thin shirt and their closeness. She felt comforted, and that was what it was. Not intimacy, not romance, just friendship. That was all he could give to her, and that would be enough. She slowly disentangled herself from his grip, and he let his arms hover around her, ready to catch her, but she found that she could stand on her own, her knees finally locking, steady. Reliant. She felt better, somehow, as if his comfort had strengthened her, but she couldn't let herself linger in his arms for another moment, or she'd indulge herself in fantasy, pretend that the hug meant something more.

"I went out in fire." Spike said after a moment. Jade hadn't quite looked at him since she had sat down, and then her eyes shifted up to him. He was looking down at her calmly, not arrogantly or disgusted. She was glad. Arrogance she could handle, but revulsion or distaste would have torn her deeper. His expression was reflective. "Put on a amulet. Helped save the world, burst into flames as I did so. Made a big crater."

"I'm jealous," Jade said quietly, but she could smile as she did so. He wasn't trying to brag, he was sharing, and so she listened, intently.

"And then I came back, so I guess that bollocks doesn't count as a big ending. But it was. You'll have one too." He looked down at her, extending that olive branch, that comfort. She nodded, not so convinced, and he added, "If I have to drag you in a big demon for one last fight to the death."

She smiled at that, the thought reassuring her more than anything else. She doubted he would, or that she would even want to in the end, more likely she'd just drift off to sleep. But the fact that he offered, and she could see in his face that it was genuine, meant a lot to her. "Do you take requests?"

"Maybe that roommate of yours will step in," Spike said, thoughtfully.

"Hey. She saved us you know," Jade reminded him without much severity.

"Oh please. We could have gotten out of that mess," Spike scoffed carelessly, though they both knew she was right. "Had a plan up my sleeve."

"You? Had a plan?" Jade said doubtfully, her eyebrow arched. This was simpler, the easy banter, the jokes. Her sniffle had disappeared, and her eyes no longer filled with tears. It was better not to spend her time feeling sorry for herself. There were other ways to be strong. She wouldn't cry any more, not even at the end. Acceptance, that was a brave thing too. Not giving in, but not denial. A fine line, and she'd walk it.

"Oi, I have plans sometimes." Spike returned, faux affronted.

"I believe you. Hundred percent."

"Oi, no cheek, bedridden or not." He picked up a pillow and tossed at her. It was playful, surprisingly so, despite the toss being so slow that even Jade could catch it with her slowed reflexes, and she held it between her fingers.

A knock on the door reminded them that they weren't alone, and Spike took a few steps back almost immediately. He had been rather close to her, between her and the bed, and she understood why he gave them distance, and as much as it helped clear her head a little, she had a moment's compunction at the gap between them again. There was a muffled woman's voice on the other side of the door, and Jade saw Spike relax, his muscles rippling as he called for the visitor to enter.

A familiar woman, with curly hair and that trademark red lipstick stepped easily into the room. Gwen. She had visited a couple times with Gunn, and Jade was beginning to like her company. She was brusque, not tactful at all, although somehow still more so than Illyria, but she was strong in her own way and she kept Jade's mind off of things. They would talk while Gunn and Spike regaled each other with their past war stories, the battles they fought. Gwen was alone this time, flicking a large bouncy curl over a shoulder.

"Delivery," the young woman announced, holding out a tray. Jade appraised it with gratitude, she had gotten hungry. Not that she had much reason to, since she did little that took up any energy. With that thought, she sunk back onto the bed, brief exercise over. There was a sandwich and some fruit slices for Jade, and a bottle of blood for Spike. Spike took it with an appreciative nod, and there was even some steam coming from the thick liquid, as it had been recently heated. He retreated to his chair, glancing up at Gwen.

"Got you doing runs now, do they? And I hope you don't expect a delivery tip."

"Of course I do," Gwen returned flamboyantly, with a flick of her hip. She waltzed over to Jade and set the tray on the bedside table. "Now, eat your food, vamp." Her voice wasn't as sharp as her words. They were just bickering, as normal, though when Gwen turned her face over to Jade, there was compassion there in her eyes, the way her lips parted with a bit of pity. Jade didn't blame her. It'd be hard to hide the pity. Here Jade was, a relatively healthy 'girl wonder', and she was wasting away like a skeleton. "How are you doing, girl?" Gwen asked her, and Jade mustered up the most encouraging smile she could manage.

"Not too bad," She reached for the sandwich and nibbled on it. "Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for. Delivering sandwiches…" Gwen glanced to Spike. "And information." The vampire grew more rigid, sitting up straighter.

"Thought Charlie boy was gunna pay us a visit," Spike remarked, curiosity unfettered in his bright blue eyes.

"Slightly busy. They all are now. Even took Illyria into the backstage." Gwen scoffed and rolled her eyes, not quite able to hide her envy. "Whatever. Keeps me from having to watch her for a while." Gwen kicked out one of the chairs, pushing it beside the window and sat down heavily. "But Gunn's been busy. Liasoning between your Scoobies and Angel and Faith."

"The new information, Sparky." Spike stated, curious and not overly patient. Gwen rolled her eyes, flipping another piece of hair, but she was obviously excited to be sharing some of the news. Must be bored, sitting around here, with Gunn was in with Buffy, and where Gwen hadn't been invited. Jade knew the feeling, she wasn't exactly welcome to that club either, but Spike would have been, had he not been here. But it gave Jade a chance to listen as well, so she leaned in, her interest no better concealed than Spike's.

"So they found out, not who's taking the slayers, but what they're looking for." Gwen smiled satisfactorily. "Magic and seers, it's a hoot. Anyway. They're after this old relic. Look, Mr. Librarian Giles apparently gave the long historical speech, but no way Gunn was going to remember that, so the short version is that it's this belt. Technically the term is the girdle of this Hippo-something lady. Hippa, hipp…" She frowned, snapping her lips together.

"You promised short version?" Spike urged her on dryly, raising his scarred eyebrow. "How 'bout the quick version too."

"Excuse me," Gwen said in a huff, but then acceded his point. "Anyway. She was this Amazon, and supposedly her belt gave her powers over the other amazons. That's the legend of Hercules, or whatever. But the truth is, these amazon warriors from long ago, well they were stronger and better because they were vampires. So this girdle, belt thing controlled them. It controls the soul-less." Her eyebrows arched, looking smugly at the others, eyes dashing in between the two of them.

"So whoever that's taking the Slayers also wants this girdle?" Jade questioned. It didn't make much sense to her at all. "Are you sure it's connected. Oh. _Oh._ " Jade glanced to Spike, who had stiffened, his cheeks pronounced as he grit his teeth, looking almost troubled. "They're wanting to build a vampire army, one they can control. And they're getting the Slayers out of the way?"

"Not an army of _just_ vampires." Gwen shook her head, less smug and more serious now. "They want something stronger than vampires. Soul-less and stronger."

There it was. It clicked into place. Jade had heard about it, horror stories from Pen to make her scared enough to know that she could never, ever let herself get turned into a vampire because of what she was. "Slayer vampires." Jade whispered. Spike had already made the connection.

"That's why Willow and the others figure that the Slayers have just been captured, not killed." Gwen continually, matter-of-factly. "Because they want their hands on this relic first. Because, let's face it. Slayers are solo bitches. You turn them into vampires and they're just going to run rampage by themselves. You want an army, you get this belt thingy."

"Giles know where it is?" Spike spoke up, his eyes narrowed with reflection. Gwen shook her head.

"No. It's hard to find. Been lost for a while. Which is probably a good thing or the baddies would probably have found it by now. But that's the sitch." She snapped her red lips and sat back into her chair. "So Buffy an' everyone are trying to find it first. Little hard at the moment, seeing as sending out the Supergirls would be exactly what our question mark enemy wants."

"Well that's a load of bollocks." Spike sighed then. "Imagine that, an evil army of bleeding Slayers. Vampire ones at that. No thank you."

"Slayer Vampires that bad, then?" Gwen asked. "I mean, everyone seems to think they are, but never seen one myself."

"They're the best of both species," Spike inserted. "Stronger, quicker. Got the same weaknesses as a vampire. Never seen one myself. Just offed Slayers, didn't turn 'em." He said that part casually, and Jade glanced to him. She knew he hadn't always had a soul, as a vampire, so the comment shouldn't bother her, though it reminded her there was really very little she knew about Spike's past. But she was thinking of the Slayer-Vampires and shivered. If she had stayed in Haven, she could have been taken like the other Slayers, be turned into a vampire. She shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to die, and that included being resurrected as an soulless beast. Especially with her Slayer blood.

"So, lots of bad," Gwen said more grimly, tapping her bottom lip. "Well, Gunn wanted me to let you know, so I did. But of a rush now, uncovering the cards and whatnot. Tapping all their contacts. Let's hope we find it first. Controlling the soulless, now that would be a good way to trim the vamp population a bit." She grinned wickedly, though Jade didn't share her enthusiasm. It just seemed a dangerous object to have in general. Especially if it was trying to be used for a Slayer-vampire army. Whoever controlled that would be very close to invincible. Could end the world. Or enslave it.


	41. Chapter 40

**40**

"Spike. Not now. I mean it." Buffy was huffing at him in the room filled with tizzies of people talking and discussing. Spike glared back at her, matching her blazing green eyes with his cold blue ones. He hadn't left Jade until he could be sure that no-one was going to disturb her, that she couldn't open the door herself while he was gone. But he had to talk to Buffy. Jade was running out of time, and quickly. She had continued to degrade, even though with his constant presence, there hadn't been a spiritual hijack in four days. Bloody good it did. She was getting weaker, not stronger, the damn spirits draining everything from her. And Spike had been stuck in there with her, depending on Willow's visits, which had all but stopped after this new Girdle of we're screwed business happened. But he needed Willow again, to just sit down and work out Jade's problem before the Slayer succumbed to her sickness. But Buffy couldn't be bothered or interrupted, even after Spike asked Gwen to see if Buffy would come to the room, she'd ignored all his attempts to make contact, so he had waltzed into the meeting room. Could there be a scene? Bloody likely, but he wouldn't leave until he had what he came for.

He couldn't see Red from where he was, or even Kennedy, so he had snagged the pipsqueak Andrew, who said they were doing a locator spell alone and quiet. And yes, as spineless as Andrew was, he was mum on the exact location of Willow, so Spike had went to Buffy instead. And she had shut him down before he even got one word out of his mouth. She had glanced up, Xander at her side, the both of them trying to stare down Spike as he approached. But he wasn't one to be deterred. Like he gave a sodding damn what any of them thought of him. And yes, he was missing out on the mystic book club, but it wasn't like he'd be a damn help in any of this anyway. It was just sitting and waiting, and he'd had about enough of that.

Surprisingly enough, he hadn't minded taking care of Jade. It was reminiscent of being with Dru. He was always looking out for the Dark princess one way or another, and after that sodding mob had nearly done them in, he had taken care of her even more, making sure she had lots to drink and birdies to coo at. Admittedly, Jade was less work, and less crazy. But she was pale as Dru now, her hair looking dark on the pillow. Still no barmy talk about the stars, but he did see the resemblance. And he hadn't minded. He did it as a soulless demon without any regrets, and now, it was just part of the deal. He'd help take care of her, because she was his friend. A real friend, and he had far too few of them. Hadn't really invested in those much. Enemies, yes, he had those in spades, and those he tolerated, but he genuinely appreciated Jade. And she was strong, for what was happening to her. Had broken down that once, a reminder that she really was young, a girl only in her early twenties, far too young to be picked off by some invisible thing. And she lamented the fact that she wasn't going out in a battle, which endeared her to Spike all the more. Now that, he could understand. He wanted the fight to feel alive, to die in some burst of violence and pain, not have it drained out of him slowly. Which is why he had to get that redheaded Witch to end this once and for all. There had to be a solution, she just hadn't found it yet. Hadn't tried hard enough. Well damn him, if he had to sit Willow down in that room until she could figure something out, he damn well would. Just had to get past Buffy first, who had no sympathy in her eyes, only irritation.

And, there it was. Worry. Spike wished he didn't know Buffy enough to read every damn emotion on her face, but he could. She had concern twisted up in there with desperation and guilt. She had so much on her plate, and here he was, offering to tip it over. And he shouldn't feel bad at that, always taking Buffy's feelings into consideration over anyone else's. This was important. Jade didn't deserve this, and there had to be some answer, there always was. The Scoobies weren't as stupid as he thought they were, being human and all. After regaining his soul—hell even with his chip, he had come to learn just how resourceful they were. So they should be able to figure this out.

"I need Red." Spike insisted, standing firm. Xander glanced between Buffy and Spike, turning then to the Vampire, shaking his head.

"She's a little busy at the moment, Spike." Xander cut in first, as he saw the glare deepen on Buffy's face, but Spike didn't care, staring straight at the minute blonde.

"Not talkin' to you," Spike curled his lip, a little angrier than normal. This discussion was with the Slayer, and her gaze blazed back at him.

"There's an order to things, Spike, you can't just…" Xander retorted back, and then Buffy pressed her hand to his chest to calm him. Oh, the reliable goober, always jumping to Buffy's defense, so blindly loyal he couldn't see anything else.

"I'll be back in a minute." Buffy said softly. She was aware of all the bodies in the meeting room, the distracted eyes. So was Spike, but he didn't give a hoot. So what? He'd announce his case here in full volume or in a sodding broom closet, as long as he got to say his piece. "Come with me," Buffy hissed to Spike, wrapping her hand around his arm and pulling him, not gently. From such delicate fingers came the strength he expected from her, Slayer strength. It reminded him of Jade, who had a hard time gripping anything with such tenacity right now. For once, he didn't complain, or even shoot off a snarky comment as she took him to an empty connecting room, closing the door behind them. "Spike—" she started, and there wasn't any patience in her tone, a quick, hasty snarl so she could get back to her work, but Spike wasn't about to let her snap him down to size before he had a chance.

"Sod it," He snarled. "You've been keeping Willow from her for days now, and it ain't bloody right. The girl is dying—"

"I haven't been _keeping_ Willow from her. I've been _needing_ Willow. Here. Working." Buffy responded icily, her eyes narrowing, succulent lips in a very straight line. She curled her hands under her chest, managing, as she often did, to look down on Spike even from a lower height. She was patronizing, as if trying to explain the simplest of things to an idiot child. "There's a lot more at stake than just—"

"So you're going to let her die. Right under your bloody nose?" Spike demanded. "Because it's not high enough on your sodding priority list?"

Buffy took a deep breath, glowering at him. "Spike, you're the one with the messed up priorities." She hissed. "I have a bunch of people missing, _my_ people, and I need to find them. Now, more than ever. So I'm sorry, but one person isn't as important as _everyone_ else, no matter what she means to you." She said it haughtily, her eyebrow arched, and Spike shook his head, a twisted smirk on his lips.

"So that's your bloody problem. You're jealous. You think that's why—"

"God, Spike, listen to yourself. You get all caught up. You never think outside anything, you just have one tunnel ahead of you and that's it. I'm not _jealous_ of your new girl, and I'm not punishing you for her. The fact that you think that is just sad." She crossed her arms more firmly in front of her chest, eyebrows sinking in a frown. "You're getting desperate, and I get it, but don't take it out on me. Willow's tried. She hasn't figured anything out yet. And there are a _lot_ more women at stake right now. And if we don't get the Girdle before they do, then maybe a hell of a lot more."

"And I'm willing to help with that," Spike argued. "But you can't deny that you've been—"

"This isn't about you and me, Spike!" Buffy exclaimed, exasperated. "You really think I'm doing this to hurt you?" She glowered at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Spike went rigid, a tightness in his chest. It was easy to blame her for his problems. Hell he'd been doing that since he fell in love with her, blaming the Slayer for twisting him up inside, and even after he been tormented with his soul, it was just as bad. He had gotten his soul because of her, and everything he suffered he connected to that as well. And now he was blaming her for Jade's illness, when he knew it wasn't her fault, not really. It was her fault that she didn't care, hadn't taken the time of day to talk to him or try to comfort him, that he had to pry Willow from her hands, but the rest of it, no. He was taking his frustration that he always had, that Buffy kept him at arm's length if not further. That she wasn't willing to be there for him because there was always something else. "Well?" She demanded.

"No." He said reluctantly. "Not on purpose. But bloody hell, Buffy. Just need something—"

"When we're done what we're doing here, if Willow had help, she will." Buffy stated firmly.

"If she was one of your Slayerettes," Spike couldn't help but say. "You'd bend heaven n' Earth. You always do, for the people you care about."

"And that's what I'm trying to do, right now." Buffy answered pointedly. "But the playing field isn't so small now. These people trust me. And I'll be damned if I let them get turned into those…Slaypires on my watch. _That's_ what's important to me. Saving as many as I can, not the ones you deem special." She said the word with a sour tang.

"Been talking to the bit?" Spike asked, seeing the way she lingered over the word 'special'. Of course Dawn went to her big sister with her big revelation, saying things she shouldn't, didn't know. Dawn didn't know anything, had the reason for Spike helping Jade all twisted up. Buffy glanced up, her head moving slightly, chin raised, but she didn't agree or disagree. Still, Spike knew the answer, Dawn always spilled everything. The thought that Buffy might not know how Spike still felt rose a bit of panic in his chest. He reached towards her tentatively, stopping his hand before it could reach her and closing it into a fist. If she wanted him to touch her, she'd tell him. "Buffy, you know that I… I haven't moved on. This isn't me doing that. I care—"

"That isn't important right now." Buffy cut him off, but her tone wasn't as sharp as it could have been. "Now, I've got to get back, and help find this stupid Girdle before the world ends. You should stay with her. Keep her from getting worse." Buffy spoke primly.

"Buffy…" Spike said, passing his tongue across his bottom lip. Buffy had crossed to the door, holding the handle. She glanced back at Spike. "When we get somewhere. I'll send Willow then. But for now, she's busy. You leave her alone. Got it?" She arched her eyebrow, but didn't wait for a response, crossing through the threshold and back into the meeting room. Spike growled, frustrated, running his hands through his white hair. He hadn't gotten anywhere, not at all. In fact he felt he had made it worse, between him and Buffy. Always made it worse, always some fight. They didn't understand each other, and even as lovers, they had never left the battlefield. And now she twisted him up inside, like she always had. And he couldn't even stay here any longer, try any longer, in case his charge die on him, like it was seeming apt to.

Her breathing was shallow. Heart weak. She was sleeping deeply, and he was afraid she'd slip into a coma soon. Or perhaps just wither away. Who bloody knew. He stared at her in the dark, her body rising and falling slowly, unevenly. She had woken up a little when he returned, but hadn't asked him about Willow. She understood, damnit. Didn't blame him or anybody. Just accepted it, laid her head back on her pillow and fell back to sleep. Couldn't much get up on her own any more now. It was bloody depressing. He was here, almost all the time, she shouldn't be getting worse. He was the blockage, whatever the hell Rupert called it. He kept the spirits from possessing her, but not from them ripping at the tear. He stood at the foot of the bed. Repelled it, did he? Then why the bloody hell wouldn't they just leave. They were killing her.

There was a knock on the door, and with another glance at Jade to make sure it hadn't woken her, Spike stepped quietly over to the door. It was almost sunrise. Not quite, but it was hard to tell which hours were dead around here, with all the ruckus. He opened the door to see Gunn standing there, looking a little tired but otherwise focused.

"Hey, Spike." Gunn nodded. Spike motioned for them to step out into the hallway. Didn't want to risk waking her, ruin her rest. He closed the door behind him with a click, glancing up at the other man.

"Get a bit of a break?" Spike asked, and Gunn shrugged.

"Angel and Faith's leads dried up. They're heading on back. Should be a day or two. As for the magical Girdle of Hippolytma—" So that's what the thing was called. Gwen hadn't remembered, and Buffy had avoided mentioning it by name—mostly because that girl was terrible at anything that was an ancient name with too many syllables. "I think they're close to tracking down the general location. And then Buffy will gather up the troops." And Spike wouldn't be able to come. Worse than that, by the time Buffy returned, maybe Jade wouldn't be 'round any more, and Spike would be useless on both accounts.

"You part of the landing party?" Spike questioned, though he wasn't surprised when Gunn shook his head.

"Pretty close-knit. Buffy's just taking her Slayers, and the witch, uh, Willow. Illyria was a bit peeved when Buffy didn't want to take her, but guess she doesn't want to leave all the Bases unprotected. In case, you know, they aren't successful. So leaders are flying home pretty soon. Gwen and Illyria and I will probably head out with Angel and Faith when they get here, if we aren't needed. Got plenty of fights to be had."

"No shortage," Spike agreed, giving Gunn a fanged smile. "Thankfully." A good fight would be nice right now, damn distracting.

"Yeah. But listen, didn't come here to talk to you about all that," Gunn scratched his chin, and Spike arched his eyebrow with intrigue. "Talked to Angel about your girl—Jade's problem," He corrected hastily.

"Like that lummox has a clue," Spike rolled his eyes. Angel was about as good as him as planning. Alright, maybe a bit better. But not by much. He was all brawn, all fight. Ancient mysticism and secret rites were far from his cuppa tea.

"Not a big flashing solution, no. But he had an idea," Gunn added, somewhat uncomfortably. "Probably won't work, man, but—"

"Spit it out, Charlie boy. Not exactly dripping with possible solutions, here."

"Well, you know the Powers That Be, right?"

Spike rolled his eyes. The Powers that should Bugger Off would be a better name. He didn't have much patience for higher beings that thought they knew everything, but impotent when it mattered. Didn't get their hands dirtied, just saw from on high and did balls about it. If Angel's solution included them, Spike wouldn't hold his breath. Not that he could or needed to hold his breath. Vampire, here. But still, at least hear the man out. "What about it?" He asked gruffly.

"Well. They had visions, if you remember, bestowed upon Cordelia. Well, before Cordy, some guy named Doyle. Anyway, the point is that they could be passed on. Angel thinks there might be a chance that either the spirit stuff could be passed on to you, where you're immune and it wouldn't kill you, or your immunity could be passed on to her, continue to repel it, and she'd get better."

Spike stared at Gunn. Sounded like bollocks. Sounded like a long shot. Sounded bloody unlikely, since Willow's mojo couldn't get the job done, though she had said that magic wasn't doing anything, that it might not be the spells but the magic itself that kept it from working. But bloody hell, what did Spike know. Worth trying, at least. "What I have to do, then?" Spike asked, bracing himself for stupid rituals, some chanting, smoking some odd plant, whatever was necessary.

"Oh, well. See originally, Doyle passed it to Cordy. And then Cordy passed it to Angel, just a one time thing, but—"

"How, Charlie Boy?" Spike demanded.

"Well, through a kiss." Gunn shrugged his shoulders, while Spike stared at him, bewildered. Then the vampire left out a sharp, barking laugh.

"That's bonkers. That's beyond stupid. And Angel thinks that'll work? This isn't the Powers that Bollocks anyway. That's the stupidest idea I've ever bloody heard of."

"Hey man, just the messenger. Asked for Angel's help, that was the advice he had. I assume you haven't tried it, so…"

"'Course I haven't tried that. It's bollocks. Never going to work." Spike snapped, hating that he really had gotten his hopes up somehow. Should have known better. It was the big forehead Git's idea, why would it work? But little Spike, for a moment, he'd actually thought there might be a chance, and there it was, all squished again. A kiss. That happened in fairytales. Weren't going to work in real life. And imagine if that was the cure. None of this seemed planned at all. Make a spirit medium that would die from it. The whole thing was bollocks. Frustrating, aggravating and unfair.

"Just… give it a go. Can it get any worse?" Gunn said, more a rhetorical question than anything else, but Spike's head snapped up to him, the comment cutting close. No, it couldn't get much worse. And it was about to if he couldn't do anything. So quit balking, Spike, and bloody kiss the girl. He didn't know why he was so affronted to the idea, but he was. Didn't seem right. Didn't like the idea that it'd make Jade uncomfortable. Didn't want to do something against another woman's wishes, not again. Never again. He shuddered at the memory. Hurting Buffy. This made him the same kind of uncomfortable. Gunn glanced at him, unnerved by Spike's conniption. Spike was usually a bit more put together than this—well, most of the time, but he was angry. Nearly shouting in the halls. He looked back at Gunn, holding in a long sigh.

"Fine, I'll try it. Don't throw any bloody parties, though." He stood there for a moment. He didn't want Gunn waiting outside. He didn't know why, but the thought bothered him. "Come by later, yeah?"

"Yeah." Gunn nodded. "If I can get away. Good luck, man," he said genuinely, then turned away as Spike glanced back at the door. Alright. He could do this. Try, anyway, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up. Willow said normal magic hadn't been doing the trick, but she hadn't tried everything, had she? Hadn't had the time to.

He stepped into the room, still as dark as he had left it. He could hear Jade's soft breathing, the dim beating of her heart. She had tossed and turned in the beginning, more due to her sleeping habits than anything else—girl was a restless sleeper, but now she rarely even talked. He had heard her sleeptalk through most her sleep, though he did his best not to listen in on it. She had vibrant dreams, which ranged from her talking about her lost love Bennett or telling someone not to put a pink bow on the cat. But it was a low mumble now, so he didn't focus on words or the parts of them, slinking over towards her. He turned on the lamp, and she didn't even frown as the yellow glow passed onto her face. Spike kneeled next to the bed, taking one of her thin wrists between his fingers, shaking it, not ungently.

"Slayer," He urged, whispering without meaning to. The room was just so quiet, even with his advanced hearing. He shook her wrist a little harder. "Slayer," He tried again, louder this time. This time there was a response, though not much of one, Jade's eyelids fluttering as she looked at him with those pale blue orbs. Not very focused, but she saw him, making a sleeping moan in her throat.

"Mhmm?" She phrased the sound so it at least sounded like a question, her eyelids flickering closed again. It wasn't just the fact that he had woken her in the middle of a sleep cycle, but that the sickness, or whatever the bloody hell they were calling it was weighing down on her so heavily, sapping at her energy, she didn't have much left. He glanced at the sketchbook on her bed table. She hadn't even drawn in it all day, during the sparse hours she was awake and Spike had made her eat something.

"Gunn had an idea," He told her, latching on to her cognizance while it was still there. "Stupid one, but thought I'd give it a go. But you gotta wake up, yeah?" The thought of kissing her while she was still in this sleepy state horrified Spike. Never again. Couldn't kiss the girl, not if she didn't want it. Post-soul days haunted him, where what he had tried to do to Buffy had tormented him, as well as just about everything else. So he couldn't touch her, kiss her, not unless she gave him the go ahead. Had to be awake. He was almost panicked thinking about it, shaking his head to calm himself down. It wasn't the same. He couldn't be forgiven for what he had tried to do to Buffy, but it was a completely different situation here, he just had to remember that. Just a kiss, try to save her life. "I can't try it if you don't wake from your kip." He reminded her, trying to keep his tone even.

She mumbled something, far from anything coherent or English, so even with his hearing, he couldn't quite tell what she was trying to say. He shook her wrist again, until those eyes flickered back open. Her lips were open slightly, full, but cracked, despite the water he'd made her drink. "I trust you," She finally repeated, her gaze centered on him. He stared back. Trust. That wasn't something given to him in bloody spades, that was for sure. Even if he asked Buffy if she trusted him, well, first she'd divert it with some snarky comment, and after some prodding, she'd admit it, but there was always that bit of hesitancy in the back of her brain. He'd seen it, after he'd come back with a soul. She'd flinched every time Spike had touched her. That had eventually gone away, and the nights before the First, she'd spent in his arms. But there was still that memory in the back of her head, something that would pop up sometimes. Trust, trust.

Who else did Spike trust, or trusted him? The list, not very long to begin with, got shorter all the time. Wesley, Fred. Hell, he didn't know how much the ex-vengeance demon trusted him, but she was on that list too. He hadn't gotten close enough with any of Buffy's Slayerettes to invoke or to want any trust from them. There was Willow, he supposed, but definitely not Kennedy. Andrew, possibly, but he answered to Buffy first. Dawn trusted him. Mostly. He'd shattered that, a bit, after what he had done to Buffy. Still wasn't whole, but rebuilding. Rupert, not in a bloody million years. No matter how Spike reformed, the old git of a watcher would never completely trust him. Not Xander either. Angel? Well, maybe. But they had seen the worst of him, mostly. Jade never had. All she knew was the good vampire, the fighter. Didn't know the darkness.

He found it ironic that this darkness was thought by Angel to be something that could save her. What kept the spirits from invading his body, this repellent of the goodly dead. He was just dead-dead, and the darkness kept any other dead from slipping in there. Yet Angel thought he could just pass it on? Didn't seem bloody likely. Almost didn't want to. But he'd give it a go. Nothing to lose. Well. Just another trusted friend. He glanced down at Jade. After her admission, her eyes had flickered closed again, on the brink of sleep. Just try it, then. Quit being such a git. He chided himself, finding himself anxious. _Not Buffy._ He tried to tell himself. _Not bad_. Wasn't an evil thing. Was a safe her life sort of thing. So give it a go.

He reached for her, slipping one hand beneath her head and between the pillow, pulling her over to him. She didn't stir, which distressed him more, but her heart was still beating in her chest, and she still breathed, though shallowly. Bloody spirits, turning her into a husk, draining everything from her. With his free hand, he turned Jade's face towards him. Her cheek was warm, soft even, a sharp jawline. His fingers traced the lines delicately. How long since he'd held a woman like that? The few times he indulged in comfort to get his mind off of Buffy, it hadn't been like this. Not angry, but not intimate, just two souls looking for distraction. But he was slow and gentle, ready to back off if Jade woke from her stupor and demanded it. He could see all the blue veins in her pale skin, the freckles along her cheeks, the red flush that seemed constant. Traces of her long, unruly and tangled brown hair fell in front of her face, so he brushed them away. He glanced at her, shuddering when he started to compare her to Buffy. He shouldn't. but he knew that if the Slayers were reversed, if Buffy was here right now, he'd have kissed her already. Done anything he needed. He loved Buffy. Tried so hard not to, but it was there, always consuming him. Seemed a wrong to kiss another, though it shouldn't. It was to help her, to save her, not because he felt something for the dying Slayer. Just had to remember that, and it wasn't like being unfaithful to Buffy.

Oh, just kiss her already. His cogitation had gone on long enough. He was building this up to be something it wasn't, and it was likely not to work anyway. Just get it over with, call Angel back and tell him he was a git, should stick to fighting. Spike leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jade's. He felt her mouth, soft and pliable beneath his own, unresponsive, unmoving. Nothing, then. Just pull away, then, but he gripped her lips a little harder, pulling her bottom lip inbetween his own. Come on, Slayer. If he was damn well giving it a go, she needed to too. One hand was gripping the bottom of her skull, entangled in her hair, the other rested on her jaw, thumb pressed to her cheekbone. Nothing, nothing but her taste, a gentle saccharine taste, mixed with the husky sapidity of familiar cigarette aftertaste, and the minty essence of when she insisted on brushing her teeth after eating anything. He thought back to when that demon Clarity had kissed Jade, and she had reacted with vehemence, likely because that was what the demon had demanded, but she was so still now, nothing but a gentle exhale to his lips. Nothing, then. He tried not to be disappointed, about to pull away, when she stirred beneath him.

No longer unresponsive, her lips gently massaged his own, pulling at him, not desperately or forcefully, but unmistakably. He didn't have a breath of his own, so he shared hers, feeling her hand lift from the covers to grip his shoulder. He held her steadily, still gripping the base of her head, stroking her cheek in encouragement. There she went. He could feel the heat ripple through her cheeks, as her kiss increased in vehemence, and then there it was. A sturdier heartbeat, a louder thump. He kissed her back, a little harder, but she didn't flinch, didn't get pushed back. Her elbow shifted her upwards, so he didn't have to lean down so far, and she could stretch herself up to him. It was kissing a live person now, not a nearly comatose one. And her heart… she seemed stronger. It wasn't possible. Broody forehead couldn't have possibly been right. He kissed her, feeling her exhale and inhales resonate in his own mouth, the taste of her on his mouth. She had all but sat up, and then finally, he broke back, hearing her little gasp for air now that she could breathe for it freely, and then there she was. Clear and focused, looking back at him, her fingers still curled around his shoulder. She looked at him searchingly, so alive. Her cheeks were flushed, lips redder than he had ever seen them, slightly swollen from the growing vehemence of the kiss, more proof that she been growing stronger.

She was all energy and vitality, and then suspicion crossed her gaze, narrowing her eyes just a bit. "That wasn't a…" Her voice was husky, nearly breathless. "Good-bye kiss, was it? Because I don't see a demon to duel." He didn't answer her for a moment, though he smirked at her humor. There she was, stronger. She seemed to realize the difference herself, pulling her legs out from under the covers and swinging them over the side of the bed, bringing her closer to him, just a little higher from how he crouched beside the bed. She looked down at him, freely tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. No more of that drowsiness, weakness in her eyes. It wasn't a complete turnaround by any means. Her body had suffered for a week. But such a dramatic difference from a few minutes. He was sure that she would slip into a coma soon as her body continued to deteriorate, and then perhaps never wake up. But it had been in time. And it wasn't by Willow, or some ancient rite. But as simplistic as a kiss. He almost shook his head. Buggery spirit types and their idiocy. Likely it wouldn't have the same effect if Spike hadn't been in the realm as well, hadn't held the repellent, passed it on to Jade or took the spirit tear into himself, he didn't know. But it must have worked. He'd get Willow down there right away to confirm. Bugger Buffy, she could give up the Witch for a minute, couldn't she?

"No," he chuckled. "Look like it's not quite the end for you yet, Girl Wonder." She smiled back at him, eyes shining, lips gleaming. "Gunn had an idea. Thought the curse, power, whatever the hell you want it be called, might be transferred or broken with a snog. Kiss, of all things. But it damn well looks like it might have worked. Absolute bollocks, really." There was a change in her expression, then. Realisation, and then almost, a morose gleam, a faraway glance in her eyes before she brought them back up to him, a smile quickly in place, so quick that he thought he might have imagined it. Didn't know why she'd be sad. He just saved her bloody life, celebration was in order.

"Oh. That's. Really? That worked?" There was an incredulous, skeptical undertone to her voice, and he smirked, nodding his head.

"Bollocks," He agreed.

"Guess the fairytales don't have it all wrong." Jade continued, her eyebrow still arched at the unlikelihood of it all. A front maybe, but he wasn't sure for what. Surely she was just relieved. So was he. "Are you sure… I mean I do feel better, but…"

"We'll get Red down here to confirm. Won't go making any congratulation banners until we're sure." Spike reassured her. "But you're not on death's bed, sodding accomplishment from a few minutes ago."

Jade glanced up at him, introspective. "Yeah." She agreed. "It is."


	42. Chapter 41

**41**

Willow looked at her, a quirky smile taking over her face. She seemed tired, deep circles under her hazel eyes, but she nodded her head in acceptance. "The tear is closed," She announced amicably to Spike and Jade. "And not just temporary. Closed, closed. Just a little seam now." Her fiery red hair flicked as the witch moved her chin from Spike to Jade, looking at the Slayer in a congratulatory manner. "No more visits from the great beyond," Willow chirped pleasantly, though Jade saw the shadow of regret pass through Willow's face. No more visits, and no more Tara. But it would be silly to be overly sad about that. It wasn't Tara in flesh, just in voice and spirit, an end that wasn't quite tied up. Wasn't closure until it was over. And then there was the fact that it had been killing Jade. No, she couldn't be sad that it was over at all, not even for the ones who still mourned those they had lost.

"You should be back to normal—Slayer normal," Willow corrected, as if she could read Jade's mind. Jade wanted her strength back, her real strength, and Willow hushed her concerns without Jade even needing to voice them. "In a couple days. Promise." Willow added brightly. The witch was just as happy as Jade and Spike that this was over—and with a happy ending. Jade knew it was partially due to Willow's adopted daughter, Sophie. Sophie had suffered quite enough for a four year old, and having yet another role model in her life die could be devastating. Not that Jade ever tried to be a role model to the orphans, but it had happened regardless. Willow seemed relieved that she finally had good news, even if she hadn't done the deed herself. "Looks like you didn't need me after all," Willow had added coyly to Spike after they had gotten her to come in and check it out for herself. Spike had mumbled the cure with enviable ease, not looking remotely bothered in the slightest. Just a kiss, after all. Had done the job.

A kiss. Jade almost blushed thinking about it. God, she had been so lost. So tired. Tempted to just drift away. Maybe that was what she had been doing when Spike had tried to wake her up. She had barely noticed he had been there, mumbling anything so she could go back and sleep. Like rest would save her. Hadn't, just pulled her in deeper and deeper until she didn't even feel real at all. Like she could just slip out of her body and float away. But he had pulled her back. She hadn't expected, not ever, to find his lips on hers. She had thought it was a dream, like everything else. But Spike had pulled at her, his cold fingers in her hair, on her cheek. The touch on her lips that she had to return. And she had. It had taken her a while to break through the fantasy that this was just a dream, that it hadn't really been Spike, until she had opened her eyes and saw it for herself. It hadn't seemed possible. She'd tried denying her feelings for him, or at least plop them on a counter where they weren't to be noticed or accepted, because she knew how pointless they were. A very one-sided attraction, at least until that kiss. She had thought, for a several moments, through his gentle touch and massaging mouth, that maybe her feelings for him weren't so one-sided at all. She had felt stronger, then, thought that maybe it was in her head.

Then the doubt had creeped in, that it wasn't so much as a 'I have feelings for you' as in a 'You're going to die', one last kiss for the horizon sort of thing. So she had voiced it, hoping maybe Spike would shut that down, that he hadn't kissed her because she was dying. And he had shut that down, in a way, but his reasoning for it was harder to handle. It wasn't about feelings at all. He'd kissed her because Charles had suggested it, that the other souled Vampire thought it might work, since it had with a different situation. So it was an experiment. She knew she shouldn't feel disappointed—the exact opposite. It had worked, damn it. She was alive, and getting stronger every minute. Willow had just confirmed her hopes—that it was gone for good, and she didn't have to worry about being visited by the spirits. Or even worse, dying. She should be happy, she should _thank_ Spike for saving her. But she couldn't shake the feeling of calamity, the thought for a moment that Spike cared about her, he had feelings for Jade, not just Buffy.

But though the 'curse' was lifted by a kiss, the real world wasn't a fairytale. It didn't work out that way. Spike had done what he could to save her, to absolve his own guilt more likely than not. But she shouldn't be angry at him for that. It was her own fault for reading into it more than she should have. And damn, the vampire was observant, she knew that. It was no time to mope, or _he'd_ start feeling bad, and frustrated that she wasn't more grateful he had saved her life. That whole Slayers want to die, thing. So Jade smiled back, brightly at Willow, looking as happy as she damn well should be.

"Thank you, Willow. That's a relief to know that I'm not going to…" Jade gestured vaguely with her hands. "Well, the chest bursting aliens from Alien come to mind, but it probably wasn't going to be that explosive." Not explosive, just drift away. "Thanks." She added again, hoping that both Willow and Spike could hear the sincerity in it.

"Well, I didn't do much," Willow accepted with a shrug. "But I'm glad you're okay, Jade. Really." And the witch sounded genuine, even as she glanced towards the door. "But I should probably go… back." The excitement in her expression was replaced by solemnity, and Jade noticed. Jade's won battle was a very small one, and there was plenty more to worry about. The Vampire-Slayer army for one. She shuddered thinking about it.

"Cheers, Red. Don't know what I can do but I'll be 'round soon, yeah?" Spike spoke up from where he stood, the side of the room. "Let Buffy know she has my full support." He spoke earnestly, not a snarky comment anywhere in his voice, and Willow smiled back at him.

"Will do." She glanced back at Jade. "Hey, if you're feeling better…" Willow flashed her an innocent smile. "And since you don't have to be on lockdown…"

"I can watch Sophie for a couple hours." Jade interrupted knowingly. Give Jade something to do while the backstage Scoobie meeting was ongoing, especially with Spike able to attend now. And keeping herself busy would help, while she regained her strength.

"Great, thanks," Willow seemed relieved. "Gunn's girlfriend Gwen has offered, but I'm still a little nervous about the accidental shocking, you know. Been making one of the other Slayers babysit her, but she'd like to see you. Especially now that you're all better."

"Not a problem." Jade assured her. With one last smile at the two of them, Willow slipped from the room. There was a moment of silence, and Jade found she was looking everywhere but Spike. Knowing how stupid and childlike that was, she glanced at him placidly, finding he was already looking at her, thoughtfully. It was so hard to tell about what, what he was thinking, to interpret his expression.

"Made it," Jade said with a smile, allayed. Spike's expression was introspective, and she didn't want that. Didn't want to show her hand. Or talk about the kiss, God Forbid. She wanted to let it lie before she embarrassed herself further. If he wasn't going to talk about it, consider it important, then there it was, she'd just let it go.

"So Red says," Spike returned, reflective. She was wondering if she should be worried before he added more confidently, "If she says it then it's true. Surprising. I remember when she was a meek little mouse of a teenager, now she's one hell of a scary witch if she wants to be. If she says you're good, then you're good, Slayer." He dipped his head. Trying to reassure her then.

"And you're off Doohickey duty," Jade said, rising to her feet and then frowning. "Must be a better word for that," She muttered, making a face at the sound. Spike smirked back at her.

"Almost a shame," He started, and she looked at him with surprise. "Got pretty close to beating the pants off the Elite four." He added smugly, and Jade laughed. Laughing was good. Defused this tension, made her think of something else. She wanted that.

"There's another region after that," She warned him with a smile. "Have to do it all over again." Spike frowned, a light growl in his voice.

"Oh, bollocks." He sighed. "Well, nevermind then."

Jade took a couple steps around the room. "You going to go help the others, then?" She asked, keeping her tone even. Spike nodded.

"Might as well. See what I've been missing. Help a bit." He shrugged his shoulders. She had gripped that shoulder, with what was left of her diminished strength, feeling it rotate and move beneath her fingers. There was no heartbeat in Spike, but he still seemed real, alive. And kissing him was not like kissing a corpse—not that she would know. He seemed alive enough. He was. This all was. She had lived, because he had saved her. She just hoped it hadn't been a sacrifice—a chore to have to kiss her. A stupid thing to think about, but she did anyway.

"Yeah. I'm going to go for a long walk."

"You go near the training field and Vi will pull you in this time," Spike warned her. "She didn't last time because she's secretly still scared of me," He licked his bottom lip smugly, and Jade couldn't help how her eyes were drawn to his mouth. Damn her. Couldn't focus one damn bit. Even if he did look so appealing with the most normal of actions.

"Got it." Jade nodded. "Thanks." Maybe a fight would do her good. But she knew better than that. She wasn't fully back to strength yet. Needed some more time for that. She could move by herself, but she was still pretty sure a grown man could kick her ass, let alone a Slayer.

"Right. See you tonight, Slayer." Spike spoke casually, although the two of them stiffened slightly. He had been spending the days and nights in her room out of necessity, but he didn't need to anymore. He seemed to realise his error, flashing her a smirk that was so casual, any awkwardness she might have detected seemed negated. "For a smoke, if you're up to it."

Jade nodded, taking the out. "Sounds good," She acquiesced, watching his back as he turned and headed out of her room.

"Look, look." Sophie tugged at Jade's arm, pulling the Slayer out of her reverie. Jade tried to hold back a sigh as she turned her face towards the girl, who beamed up at her, soft blue eyes shining. Her hair was in two lopsided braids, courtesy of Jade. She'd think she'd be better with braiding since she had such long hair of her own, but short hair was tougher, not to mention that Sophie had a hard time staying still. But she was sweeter, and not quite as loud as most kids her age, but she was insistent. Likely something she had picked up from Kennedy. The Sophie that Jade remembered was a lot more soft-spoken, but Sophie was more demanding.

"Not the petal trick again," Jade said, and watched the child's crestfallen look as she was indeed holding out a soft, slightly wrinkled petal in her pudgy her hands. "I mean, go ahead. Love to see it again." Sophie didn't catch the sarcastic note or didn't care, her smile regained as she narrowed her eyes, focusing very hard. That was at least something pretty spectacular, that a four year old _could_ focus. That, she likely got from Willow. As well with her affinity for the magics. The petal, while slowly and uncertainly, twirled a bit precariously through the air and then steadily inclined, floating a good few centimeters in the air.

"That's great," Jade said, not completely insincere. More than she could do, anyway. She didn't really have an inclination for the magic arts. She could say because she just didn't want to add something else to her plate, but Pen's obsession with it left a bad taste in her mouth. Body possession, among other things, it was darker stuff that Jade didn't want to get into. She wasn't sure how open minded she should be about a four year old learning it either, but Sophie wasn't her responsibility. And heck, she had meant to convince madame Syeira back in Haven to teach the kids there, and Sophie wasn't that much younger. And likely she had a better teacher. As Spike always said, Willow was a powerful witch. Most said that, really. And if Sophie was determined to follow in her footsteps, then she had a good teacher. Better than Jade had had.

A commotion outside the door drew Jade's attention, and Jade stood. Sophie's attention had diverted as well, and the petal floated back to the ground, forgotten on the floor. There seemed to be feet pounding in the halls, a lot of them, as some gathering of some kind. Jade opened the door, glancing out. Slayers, moving through the hall with purpose. There must be something going on, and Jade's innate curiosity wouldn't let her close the door and pretend it didn't happen. "Come on, Sophie." She called to the child, who waddled over to her obediently. "Let's go inspect."

Sophie offered her hand uncertainly, and Jade glanced back at the child. Jade wasn't a hugger or a toucher, but it was mainly so that the kids at the orphanage hadn't gotten close to her. And Jade didn't want any more responsibility, at least back then. She had come to Haven to disappear, not to create more friendships to shatter. But things were different now. Willingly or not, she was a part of something now. So instead of taking her hand, Jade lifted up Sophie in her arms, resting her easily on a hip. Easily. Her strength had returned, almost fully. She was going to seek out Vi later that night, see if she could get some training in. Kicking and punching would do her good. But for the moment, she held Sophie. Lots of commotion in the halls, with girls that might not be used to their full strength. Best keep Sophie close. The girl willingly and happily fit into Jade's arms, resting her head on Jade's shoulder. Jade's collarbone was pronounced, but Sophie didn't complain about the bony Slayer, resting her head there easily. Jade took her through the halls, with the rushing Slayers. She hadn't seen this many together before, not even when they went out to rescue the Orphans.

Jade saw Illyria first. She hesitated for a moment, then walked up to the blue woman, who observed her and Sophie calmly without moving. Illyria's expression was impassive, but not hostile, as it was the first time Jade had met her. But she was better now, and less likely to spit out her Wesley's last words, so Jade felt comfortable enough to talk to her. "What's happening?"

"The girdle has been found," Illyria stated calmly. "The Slayers gather their army to retrieve it first."

"Are you going?" Jade asked. Illyria looked slightly irritated, but not at the Slayer, her eyes blazing.

"No. They do not recognize my worth," Illyria huffed. "I am to leave with Gunn to meet up with Angel and Faith. I will not take part in this battle."

"Battle?"

"Retrieval." Illyria corrected herself. "If they are fortunate, it will not be more. Their chances lessen without me." Jade relaxed somewhat. So not a fight with the bad, but a pre-emptive strike. Get the girdle, balance their chances. Keep the captured Slayers alive and unturned for as long as they could keep the belt safe. It was a worthy task. Since Jade hadn't been told about it, she found it unlikely she would be one of the 'strike force'. She'd convinced Buffy once to take her along, she doubted she'd get as lucky this time. But with that thought, it was likely that Spike _was_ going, and if that was the case, she wanted to find him before he left. A stupid, possessive reason, but she had fought with Spike, and she cared about him. He had saved her life. Getting to be too numerable to count the number of times that he had. Jade glanced back up at Illyria, breaking from her reverie.

"Thanks. I'll see you around, Illyria." Jade swept around her before the Old One had a chance to answer. Sophie nudged into her neck.

"Pretty color," The four year old murmured. "Blue is pretty."

"Like your eyes," Jade felt compelled to agree with the child.

"And yours." Sophie smiled.

"Sophie!" Jade was dodging between Slayers throughout the hall when she heard a familiar voice. Not the most friendly of familiars, as Kennedy's face came into view. Her intense brown eyes were sharp, as always, but she looked determined rather than aggressive. "We were just coming to find you." Kennedy told the child, and Willow came into view, behind her.

"Hey there, you." Willow smiled at Sophie, but there was a certain remorse behind her hazel eyes. Kennedy gestured for them to be pulled off into a side room, to stay out of Slayer traffic. Jade let Sophie stand on her own two feet, and the small child wandered over to Willow, happy to be in the Witch's arms as Willow pulled her close.

"Did you hear what's happening?" Kennedy asked, and there was no snapping to her tone, just genuine interest.

"Briefly. Going to get the girdle?"

"Yeah. Most of us. Not the kids, the real young ones, they'll stay here." Kennedy nodded, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "Just us Slayers, and Willow." Her voice betrayed a bit of concern for her witch girlfriend, who was murmuring softly with Sophie. Sophie let out a worried gasp, and Willow tickled her nose, trying to comfort the child who didn't want her new parents to leave her again. She'd been abandoned enough.

"Will it be dangerous?" Jade questioned. She found she was concerned. Not just for herself, if the Slayers failed, it would be a great loss. The start of a vampire-slayer army.

"It…shouldn't be." Kennedy said, but with no great confidence. "We don't know what else is there. Just where the girdle is. Hopefully we are the ones that find it first. That it's still there. And that someone's not waiting for us. But we're strong. We can handle it."

"Yeah." Jade nodded knowingly. "You said… just the Slayers and Willow? No-one else?" She asked, the words clicking into place.

Kennedy gave her a smirk. "Yeah. Just us. And yeah, your boyfriend was arguing to Buffy about it. Probably still is. But she doesn't want him along." She shrugged.

"Not my—boyfriend." Jade couldn't help but correct, to which Kennedy gave another shrug.

"Whatever. Look." Kennedy's gaze grew more serious at the sound of a muffled sob from Sophie, Willow hugging the little girl close. "You keep an eye on Sophie while we're gone?"

"You got it." Jade accepted without preamble. "I should go find Spike…"

"You can come with us," Willow spoke up, a slight sniffle to her words. "To the lobby, I mean. That's where Spike and Buffy were arguing last." She said pragmatically. "We can say good bye there. That okay, baby?" She asked Sophie, who let out another cry. But it wasn't a loud, shouting sob. She was relatively quiet, for a child, but she was upset. Sophie nodded, and Willow stood, up, taking one of Sophie's hands in hers, and Kennedy looped automatically around to the other, taking Sophie's free hand with a bit more hesitation.

They were right. As they entered the lobby, where the Slayers were suiting up, many of them, just a couple years younger than Jade to just a few older, there was Spike and Buffy, debating in the corner. Spike looked pissed, and Buffy seemed out of patience, her arms crossed firmly in front of her chest. Jade walked over to them automatically, catching a bit of their conversation.

"In case something happens, you need me." Spike said stubbornly.

"Spike, we've been over this. I do not need you. Not for this." Buffy amended.

"Like hell. It'll be a damp squib without me, you know that."

"I don't even know what that—Spike. You're not listening."

"You're mad at me, you are."

"Spike." Buffy said, then her eyes flickered to Jade as she approached, the blonde's expression going from one of exasperation to carefully controlled aloofness. "This is the way things are. I need you to—"

"To sit here. I thought the reason you wanted me back was to bloody help." Spike interrupted.

"I need you to protect them!" Buffy exclaimed, looking around a bit ashamedly. There were a lot of Slayers getting ready, and she hadn't wanted them to hear her outburst. From what Jade had seen, Buffy thrived on being in control, as much as possible. Of herself, of everything. But Spike seemed to get her all worked up, all out of wack. They cared about each other, that was obvious, even if they showed it in arguments. "The Slayers staying here. I need you to stay here. To protect them if something goes wrong."

"If I go with you, nothing will go wrong," Spike argued.

"Spike. Please? I trust you to do this." Buffy's voice dropped. Now Jade was too close, enough she felt awkward about it, but felt a bit better when she was flanked by Kennedy and Willow, who were listening too. Willow glanced at Jade, giving her a bit of a comforting smile. "Don't worry. They argue a lot. Nothing new." The comment either went unheard or ignored by Buffy and Spike.

"Rupert's staying here, ain't he. He'll just bore any intruders to death."

"Spike." Buffy prompted, calmly, but a flare of impatience in her blazing green eyes.

"Fine. I'll watch the bloody henhouse." Spike growled. "But nothing better go wrong with your mission, or I'll kick your arse."

"You can try." Buffy shook her head, triumphant. But it wasn't all quite haughtiness and superiority. She reached out and touched Spike's arm. Jade could see the vampire stiffen. "Thank you, Spike." Buffy said genuinely. She walked past him then, the Spike swinging around to watch Buffy walk away, his eyes briefly noticing Jade before continuing to follow the blonde Slayer. She called to the rest of the Slayers, drawing them into a close group.

"Here's our cue." Willow said, kneeling down to face Sophie, Kennedy hesitating, but following the same stance. "You be good, sweetie. We'll be back before you know it." Willow promised, touching Sophie's cheek.

"Be good." Kennedy stated. "But not too good." She gave the child an encouraging smile. "You know we'll keep each other safe, don't you?" To show their unity, Kennedy gripped Willow's free hand, and the two women smiled down at Sophie, holding back their own tears as the young girl tried to keep in a sob.

"See you s-soon?" Sophie sniffled.

"Sooner than you think." Willow smiled. "And then we'll go back to Brazil. Get to visit the monkeys again. Monkeys!" Sophie let out a small smile, nodding slowly. Then the two lovers were off. The Slayers stood around Willow for a few minutes, while the witch worked a spell, and then suddenly, they were gone, off in a pop, teleported away like Lyth often did. Though Lyth only did herself, and Willow had transported all of them.

"Is it that easy, then? Just teleport there, easy there, easy back?" Jade spoke out loud, almost to herself, since Spike had been moving away faster than she had anticipated. Thankfully, he stopped, so she wasn't talking to air. He turned towards her, a bit wearily, still pissed off from his talk with Buffy. Seemed like every time he talked with the blonde Slayer he'd get pissed off, but it wasn't Jade's place to judge. Wasn't her relationship.

"Near it, yeah. Bit of a magic free zone. They have to walk to the place, and then back." He swung his eyes towards the spot where they had disappeared. "'Bout a day, maybe two."

"She'll be fine." Jade blurted. "They. They'll be fine."

Spike sighed. "Right. And I'm here, stuck nursemaid." He glanced at Jade, who had Sophie clutched close to her leg. "Looks like you're in the same boat."

Jade glanced down at Sophie. "You're not wrong," Jade smiled lightly. "You must be sick of the nursemaid bit, though, by now." She said, referring to when he had to stay, literally night and day, by her side. He looked at her, but without looking too aggravated. "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize, Slayer. Easier to have to stay around someone all the time than to watch them leave."


	43. Chapter 42

**42**

He looked across the mat to Jade, who gleamed back determinedly, a gleam in her blue eyes. It was dark there in the courtyard, but it was empty, just the two of them. Most of the Slayers were studying in the library or in their beds. Vi was one of the few elder Slayers that stayed behind, so she was in charge of the Slayerettes, Spike just got to ignore them. Thankfully, but it was rutting boring. Just a bunch of kids within the walls now, mostly everyone else had stomped off to the objecting getting. Xander had returned to Toronto with his honey, Andrew had gone to England, most of the watchers had left, except for Giles, who was keeping an eye on things. Thing is, if they were all here, what did they need Spike for. Yeah, it was an old plan, sneak in to get the kiddies while the parents were out, but none of the other Slayer kidnappings happened in homes, in their safe houses. They were safe as hell. Bloody boring. And not right. Buffy never refrained from throwing Spike into danger, and he was content with that. Preferred it, really, preferred the fight, not sitting at home and twiddling his thumbs.

Thankfully, Jade had come up with a solution. The match he had promised they'd have, someday. He expressed doubt that she still wasn't at her best, but she had pushed those concerns away. She'd put to bed the mini-Wicca girl and had joined him out here in the night. Where they wouldn't be disturbed, and could beat the tar out of each other until they were exhausted. Not that he really wanted to injure Jade all that much, but he hadn't pushed her potential, hadn't seen her in a fair fight. He wanted to test her strength for himself. He'd seen her fight that other Slayer, the little Barbie that had gone missing. She'd won handily then, but she had a couple years on her opponent. And Spike had more than a few years on Jade. She'd want him to treat her like an equal, so he'd pushed worry about her not being a hundred percent. This was just a distraction anyhow, and a damn needed one. Didn't want to think about Buffy. Didn't want to think about her leaving him here when he should be by her side. Hell, that was what she wanted. He'd retreated, gone to Haven to be alone for a while, and she pulled him back. Always pulled him back. But she had just deposited him here like a guard dog. He was the one she brought along no matter her pals' complaints. But instead, he was here. And she was out there, where he couldn't help her.

Buffy be the first to say she didn't need a savior. Bloody girl power and all that, she hated the thought of having anyone—mainly a man—need to take care of her. But he wasn't so high and mighty as all that. You took care of the one you love. Was simple as that. Took care of Dru when she was sick and weak, and she had done the same for him. Still, he didn't know if that was love. Sure, he'd loved as a vampire. Some dispute it as not being real, but as Dru had said, Vampires—those without souls, could love. Just not wisely. And that was something Spike never seemed to shake. Not being able to love wisely. Loved Dru, but she didn't feel for him the same way. Not for loyalty. Let herself get all attached to Angelus. And then he loved Buffy, who wouldn't let herself love him back. Bloody good track record he'd got there. Love was pain and suffering. It was thinking about it endlessly, tormented by it. It was good to have a break.

So there was Jade, ready to fight him, give him something else to focus on. She wore long black exercise pants and a t-shirt, blending into the night with their dark colors. Her hair was pulled into a braid, away from her face. She was certainly looking better. Still pale, but he hadn't expected that to change. But no longer sallow and weak. More colors in her face, and a steady heartbeat. She gazed at him readily, calmly. She hadn't said a word about the kiss, and he was bloody thankful for it. Didn't need to hear about it again. Anya had never let him live down having sex with her, as much as he tried. Not that it was the same with Jade. He wasn't embarrassed, or regretful. But it just… didn't mean that. Didn't mean what it should. He'd done it to save her, not to declare any intentions, and she had accepted it. But what she really felt, he didn't know. She was fairly good at hiding her emotions, even from someone as observant as Spike. That blush of hers, she couldn't hide worth a damn, her own body betraying her, but the rest, if she was sad or hurt, he had a hell of time finding it out. Buffy always held everything on the outside, her heart on her sleeve, not holding anything back, but Jade had a little protective shell that she clung to. He was beginning to peel it back, piece by piece. She hadn't the easiest of lives, he knew that. Maybe it was a Slayer thing. Seemed likely. What a more lonely, unforgiving job than to be the Slayer. Got nothing for your troubles. Except the package of course, the speed, the strength, the beauty, the healing. He was a bit jealous sometimes. Slayers were even stronger than him, stronger than Angel even, and he was an older vampire than Spike was. Didn't mean Slayers couldn't be taken down other ways. Strength and speed weren't everything. He hadn't even been a fifty year old vampire when he'd taken down his first Slayer. And he was stronger every year. Smarter, too. Knew a lot about different fighting styles, even if straight forward and direct was more his style. He was a brawler. Knew Jade was one too. She took a lot of hits, and kept coming.

"Not going to vamp out?" Jade asked evenly, her hands resting at chest-level, into loose fists.

Spike smirked. "Not going to need to." It was true, unleashing that demon side of him increased his strength, but he wouldn't invoke it subconsciously. Might not need the strength, while Jade was still recovering. Either way, it was cocky banter, and Jade smiled back haughtily, not offended. Probably damn determined now to make him eat those words, which he was more than happy to accept. Wanted a real fight. A distracting fight.

She swung first, crossing the distance between them and passing her fist through the air. It had power behind it, but Spike dodged it easily, dodging nimbly and grabbing her by her extended elbow. She twirled, her back to his front and with her free arm, elbowed him in the stomach. It had enough force to cause him to loosen his grip and stumble back. An accompanying kick from her threw him back further, and he fell, rolling quickly to his feet in time to block another of her punches. He deflected her hands, striking at her head. She caught it on her cheek, blinking but not staggering, kneeing him in the side in the same blow-for-blow reaction. He needed this. Nothing but their blood in the air, the rampant beating of Jade's heart, the adrenaline, the aggression. She wasn't holding back, and neither was he. Just pure unadulterated violence, even if they weren't trying to kill each other. Just beat the crap out of each other, no inhibition. They were Slayer and Vampire, they would recover. Spike figured he wasn't the only one who needed to blow off steam, though he wasn't exactly sure what Jade's reasoning was. Most likely due to the fact that she had nearly died to that spirit possession, a slow and inconsequential way to die, she wanted to remind herself that she was a Slayer, that she was strong. And it was true. Her blows, while not dripping with finesse and accuracy, were hard hitters. She gathered up all her strength for her strikes, not letting his answering blows knock her off guard. She just took the hits as necessary, instead of trying to dodge them. A mirror image of Spike, really. He wasn't too concentrated on self-preservation.

She kicked him in the jaw and he grabbed her leg, ungently tossing her to the pavement. Her head hit the ground, and she groaned, but bounced back up without preamble, shaking the gravel from her hair. Shorter pieces had freed themselves from her braid, falling in front of her forehead, her eyes, and she swept them away irritably, not taking her eyes off Spike. They had been silent for a time, nothing but groans and grunts exchanged between them. Spike was one for the banter, but he had noticed Jade was more of a silent fighter. Liked to focus, not so much mess with the opponent's head. She swung at his face, this time hitting his nose, which he heard a crack.

"Oi!" He staggered back. "Not the nose." He felt blood dripping from the wound, but it was more a vanity thing than anything else. But Buffy had broken his nose plenty of times, in her old punch-the-Spike days. Most of the Slayers he had helped train knew to stick clear. Though he could put most of them down easily enough, if he wanted to, as evident by his answering strike to Jade's stomach which threw her through the air, skidding back as she landed on the ground. She came to her feet, admittedly a bit slower, but Spike was there, blocking her kick and catching her fist in his hand. She jumped, then, using his legs as stepping-stands as she flipped upwards, kicking him once in the jaw, then landing a few meters away. Some of their moves were reminiscent of the fight in the parking lot, when they were bid to by Jade's sister. But Spike was faster now, stronger. He knew he could win, end it quickly if he wanted to. He had been hitting her harder and harder, and she was recovering slower each time. But she did have an ability to just shake off the pain, absorb it, and continue on. It was like hitting a wall.

Her leg lashed out, hitting at his ankles. He fell, and she was on him immediately, trying to pin him down, but he rolled quickly, kicking out at her leg and unbalancing her instead. She staggered, falling to the ground, and he rolled ontop of her the same way she had tried to do to him. But he was better, pinning down her wrists. "Gotta be faster than that, Bloody Mary," He told her, his nickname accurate. There was a cut over one of her eyebrows, as well from her bottom lip, a brightly colored bruise decorating her cheek.

"Or just stronger," Jade huffed out, raising her knees and lifting him off of her, an awkward half kick that didn't throw him very far, but got him off of her, and she swung her hand after him, hitting his neck. He growled, his head bouncing off the pavement, and he saw the flicker of fear, hesitation in her face as he felt some blood splash his face, but he wasn't done yet. Didn't want a friendly fight, though he thought he wanted to. Wanted a real fight. Something to take away his frustration, so he struck out at Jade, just barely missing her chin as she rolled away. They rose to their feet in synchronicity. Her chest was heaving, breathing erratic. But she hadn't asked to stop, lately because she figured it would mean her forfeit. She was frowning a bit at Spike's tenacity. He realised then that he had shifted, his forehead pronounced, eyes shining in the dark, and his teeth longer and stronger. So he had vamped after all. With a minute roar, he launched himself forward, and they continued their blow-for-blow. He laughed a little with each hit he gave and took, letting the glee of battle fill him. Was much better than sparring with the recruits, or 'chosen', or whatever the hell Buffy wanted to call them. But he knew Jade wasn't wanting to hurt him, at least not badly, that she was holding back. Bit disappointing, but the fight was still doing what it was supposed to, distract him from other thought. And she was still enjoying it. He could see it, feel it. The way her heart beat quicker, the flashes of smiles on her face each time she landed a solid blow on him. She had the same euphoria in battle that he did, the same jubilation coursing through her veins. She loved the fight, like he did, hadn't complained about the blows he had landed on her, just made sure that she would land hers just as hard.

He grabbed her wrist out of the air, and she tried that flip again, to put him at an awkward angle and let her go. It had worked the last time, but this time he was ready for it, twisting himself to grab her other wrist instead, and now she was trapped, her arms criss-crossed in front of her. "Gotta be more creative than that, Slayer," He chided her. He increased the pressure, causing her to topple towards him, chests bumping. She kicked out then, trying to take his weight out from underneath. And the kick connected, but he struck out with his free leg, and they both toppled down, but he didn't decrease his pressure on his wrists, keeping her close. She was sitting on her legs now, unable to use them against him, struggling fruitlessly against his hold on her arms. "You got nothing else," He licked the bottom of his fangs. "I win."

"Got one thing left," Jade disagreed, and promptly smashed her forehead into his. There were twin "Ow!" that sounded, and Spike released her, the both of them clutching at their skulls. Spike's ridges felt all tender, and the small headed Jade couldn't be that much better off. Was a smart move, if not brutal. And painful, but unbelievably, Jade recovered first, punching Spike in the cheek as he struggled to his feet. He looked at her, his yellow eyes wide. He was impressed, even as the red impact was obvious on Jade's pale forehead. That would definitely bruise, though as a Slayer, it'd heal quickly enough. Still, she had snapped up as if it were nothing, though she clearly felt the pain.

"Bloody hell," Spike exclaimed. "That's some pain tolerance, girl wonder."

"Lots of practice," Jade returned, her fists back in defensive position.

So had he. It started with Angelus, really. When the older vampire had held his hand out into the sun, even though it burned, Spike had wanted to do the same. Prove that he could take the pain. And he was formidable at it, compared to many vampires. Crosses burned him of course, so did sun, but he could take the pain. Sometimes he even revelled in it. Jade had that same way about her, that she welcomed the pain instead of shying away from it, and just hit harder because of it. He wondered why. Wasn't exactly a Slayer thing. Knowingly getting yourself hit wasn't the smartest plan, not something inherent. "Impressive," he said instead. "Let's see how long it lasts." He rose to his full height.

"What on Earth is going on here?" A voice sounded, condescending and demanding. And recognizable. Spike sighed, his face returning to its human form as he turned to face the approaching Librarian-watcher. Rupert Giles, who had a look on his face as if he'd never seen anything so barbaric. Though for someone as haughty and as refined as Rupert, he looked at way at a lot of things. "This is hardly the time for infighting."

"Just some sparring, Rupe." Spike corrected impudently. He heard Jade's heart begin to slow down, as she stepped to Spike's side, somewhat more abashed than Spike was. Yeah, maybe not the best time to throw down, but he'd mentioned he wasn't the best of bloody watchdogs, hadn't he. "Killing time."

"Yes, well. I was looking for you." Giles' fingers rested nervously on the frame of his glasses. He strode up to the two of them, looking between the two of them, sweating and bleeding and covered in bruises. Jade smiled apologetically at him. That's all she had wanted, a bit of a match. Spike was the one that had pushed out of friendly territory with the no holding back rule. "We have a bit of a...uh…situation."

Spike stiffened, immediately serious. "Is it Buffy?" He demanded. "The Slayers?"

"Huh? No." Giles shook his head. "Had a quick call from Willow before they entered the no, magic area, as it were. No problems so far. Likely we won't hear from them until they're out. But no, we have a different problem."

"What is it, Rupert?" Spike asked, relieved, but getting impatient. Rupert was always so slow to get to the damn point with his stutter and careful way of speech.

"Well, as you may or may not know, we have two floors beneath this hotel. Added in, you see. A sort of bunker if something were to happen to the surface. It also leads into the sewer system and tunnels of San Francisco."

"Your point?" Spike interrupted. Giles let out a little sigh, scratching at the scar on his forehead.

"My point is," Giles returned, a bit severely, "Is that there are several rooms down there. Some we use as a sort of… detaining area."

"Cells." Spike translated.

"Yes." Giles admitted. "We have a rather special case. A Slayer, you see. One that you're familiar with, Spike. She was in a mental institution for much of her young life, and we have taken her into our care."

Realisation and memory hit Spike solidly. "Dana." The white-haired vampire stated.

"Yes. We weren't able to help her, but couldn't set her free. So Willow temporarily set her in a stasis. Every so often, we revisit her and try to rehabilitate her, but as of yet, it has been unsuccessful."

"So you just shut her down until the next time you feel like giving it another go," Spike snarled disapprovingly.

"Yes, Spike. So am I to believe that you'd have her run free, then?"

Spike didn't answer, and Giles nodded as if that were answer enough. Damn British wanker. He couldn't admit it, wouldn't admit it, but the thought of Dana terrified him. He'd underestimated her last time, and it made him shudder to think about it. He saw Jade glance at him, curiously, from his peripherals, but he stared ahead apathetically. "What about Dana, then?" Spike growled after a moment.

"It seems to be.. that is, that the magical suspension Willow placed on her has dissipated."

"Why?" Spike asked, and he saw a frown flit across Giles' face, as if the older man hoped that was a question he wouldn't have to answer.

"A-any number of reasons," Rupert stammered. "She didn't refresh it, for lack of a better term, perhaps she used too much magic elsewhere, or it simply degenerated on its own." There was another or to that, Spike knew it. Or something had happened to the Witch. But he wasn't going to think that way. Maybe the zone that Willow was in kept her from being able to keep up the spell. But then, if the spell was down…

"She escaped then?" Spike tried very hard to keep his tone even, to keep the fear out of it, but he didn't think he was successful. He frowned, angrily, gritting his teeth. He wouldn't be afraid, not of that girl, not again.

"Not quite. She's within the basement levels of our building, and we sealed off the tunnels. She can't go anywhere, but regardless, we need to find her. We're effectively cutting off our own escape route by keeping her trapped. Someone has to go downstairs and subdue her." Giles looked between the two of them. Spike felt that panic rising in his chest, that pathetic fear that began to bubble and spread. Well he'd ignore the damn thing.

"Fine. Bloody hell. I thought you all would actually know what to do with her, not just keep her on standby. Bloody accident waiting to happen. Anyone hurt then? You just left her down there alone?"

Worry crossed Giles' face. "Not alone. She did have the Slayers taking turns. As it was, most of our more senior members left with Buffy. There were two, slightly less experienced girls watching her. Only one got out to tell us about Dana's escape. The other is still down there with her."

Spike reacted immediately. "Why didn't you tell me this early? Rutting hell, Rupert. Just give me the bloody short version. I'll go now." He strode quickly back into the building, Rupert and Jade on his heels. Trying to keep the panic from his chest, the fear that was worming its way into his mind. He wouldn't be scared. It wouldn't happen the way it did last time.

"I'll come with you." Jade announced. Spike glanced back at her as they approached the basemen door. Two young Slayers stood there, at attention, their gazes drifting towards the approaching trio. Giles was stuttering something, but Spike's attention was on Jade.

"I got this." He told her. Something he had to do himself. Prove that he wasn't scared. But Jade was shaking her head. She couldn't possibly know what he had been through, but her eyes were sympathetic, almost soft.

"There's a girl trapped down there with her. You need both of us, then." Jade answered placidly. She set her lips firmly in a line. His work was still over her, the bruises, the fresh blood, but she looked stoically back at him, undeterred.

"You don't know what she is. She's bloody bonkers. More than that. Wigged out. A killer." Spike tried to explain. "You give her any medication?" He barked at Giles, who shook his head.

"Just Willow's magic. We wanted to try a different approach," The watcher explained. Spike scoffed.

"Then we'll go together." Jade said calmly. Damn it. She didn't know what they were walking into. Spike did. Spike knew better this time. Had to prove it to himself, had to get rid of these bloody jitters.

"Fine." Spike relented, glowering at her, but she didn't back down. "We find the girl, you get her out. I'll handle Dana. Understood?" Jade nodded, and Spike looked back at the worried and aghast Rupert. "Unlock the basement," Spike said. "Let us in."


	44. Chapter 43

**43**

"H-Hang on a moment," Giles was saying. "There's a few things you need to take with you first." He seemed a bit startled by Spike, the detached look on his all-too serious face. He seemed angry, furious even. Jade felt on the shallow side of the information, going in basically blind. What she had gathered was that a mentally unstable Slayer was on the loose in the basement dwelling of the hotel. She really didn't _need_ to know more, adding to the fact that a young girl was trapped on the other side of the door with the Slayer named Dana. But Jade wanted to know more, what made her dangerous. Why they suspended her with magic instead of helping her. But Spike's face was set in a dangerous mode, and she knew he wouldn't wait for her to get her answers from Giles. He would go, with or without her, and she had to be there. If it was dangerous, she'd help him. If he was disturbed by all this, then she couldn't simply let him go alone. She didn't know what happened to Dana, but she didn't need to.

"And what's that?" Spike said without a mote of patience. Jade glanced at the two Slayers before them, who were barely more than girls, just fifteen, maybe sixteen years old. One looked stoic, light brown hair pulled away from her face, gray eyes determined. She was more heavy-set, muscular and well rounded than her companion, a smaller girl with blonde hair and a slight tremble to her hands. They both gripped rifles, plastic looking, and she could see darts on the table beside them with red feather looking things on the end of them. Tranquilizer darts. Her stomach clenched briefly, taking in a deep intake of breath and trying to settle herself. Better than trying to kill the Slayer, they'd simply try to knock her out. Giles had reached to the table of non-lethal ordinance, extending a plastic pistol to Jade. Hesitating for only a moment, she gripped it.

"Without magic at our disposal, we'll uh, have to resort to these." Giles looked slightly uncomfortable, not one for guns, then, perhaps. Jade like guns, but they hadn't as much of a practical use when fighting vampires, so she had trained in archery instead. Didn't quite have the cash for a custom made gun that fired wooden bullets, but she wouldn't be opposed to it. But the sedative needles bothered her more than firing wooden marks would. "Don't be sparse with them," The older man warned the two of them. "It will take at least four shots to bring her down."

"Or one." Spike spoke, contempt in his voice as he reached for a larger syringe on the table. He gripped it in his hand, and after consideration, Jade took one as well.

"For close combat," Jade explained quietly. Spike looked at her, affronted.

"There won't be close combat for you," He reminded her, stiffly. He seemed so angry, and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't the calm, rational Spike she had been used to. Alright, so calm and rational weren't the best words to describe him. But even in his bursts of impulse, he was reasonable. Now he seemed erratic, defensive. He still had blood on his forehead from their battle, an angry bruise spread across his forehead from her head-butting him. That fight had been a welcome exhilaration for her. She finally felt strong again, after a week of being drained by that damn spirit tear or whatever it was. She felt like a Slayer, one who could strike a Vampire to his knees. She knew she hadn't won in a startling victory, or even won at all. It had been a tie, called by Giles, but Jade knew that eventually Spike would win. Her endurance wasn't what it used to be anymore. A Slayer needed to stay in shape, to train, but in Haven, she had ignored that. Runs, sometimes, for fitness, but nothing lasting and commendable. Meanwhile, Spike never strayed from the fight, remarkably muscular and well-preserved. He hadn't let himself go, that was for sure. She shouldn't have either, but training didn't leave any lasting, precious images for her. She had wanted to turn from it.

Which meant she couldn't beat Spike, not in a fair fight. Yeah, it was true that she wasn't at his full strength, but that didn't matter. He was better at fighting. She was all instinct, and he was mostly instinct too, but he had knowledge of technique that she didn't. And that killer instinct that she lacked. She hesitated, briefly, but unmistakably, every time she thought she had hurt him too badly. That was enough to hamper her. And the thing is, she _should_ be able to win. She was a Slayer. Sure, vampires got stronger each year, but Spike was only a hundred and twenty six as a vampire. There were still vampires older than Spike, and she needed to be ready for them. At least, if she was done with hiding away in Haven. In Haven, she didn't have to be a Slayer, didn't have to never let her guard down, she could be someone ordinary, someone that flew under the radar. But fighting with—and against—Spike made her realise that she couldn't be happy with losing. She could be stronger, _should_ be stronger. She shouldn't let that slip from her because of her apathy, because she didn't train enough.

Jade wondered if that was why Spike was hesitant to allow her to come with him. Because she wasn't ready enough, because she was a letdown as a Slayer. It was a stupid doubt to have in her head, not now. If he thought she wasn't strong enough, she'd prove him wrong. She could help against this psycho-slayer. She wouldn't let herself get taken out. She gripped the gun tightly before slipping it into her jeans, draping more ammo around her shoulder.

"You should take a pistol as well," Rupert was advising Spike, who glanced back at him irritably.

"And have it knocked out of my hand to be used against me, no thanks, Rupert. She can dodge those, she's wicked fast. No, if she likes it down and dirty, it'll be me getting the jump on her this time." His hand clenched around the syringe, tightly. Jade glanced at him, wordless, while Giles frowned, scratching his forehead.

"Try not to hurt her, Spike—"

"I'm not going to bloody hurt her," Spike looked offended. "Much. Not on purpose. But I'm going to bring her in, you better be sure of that."

"Just… she doesn't need more unnecessary violence," Giles continued, softly.

Spike drew to his full height, his blue eyes narrowed slits. "Trust me, Rupes." He said insolently. "Violence is all she knows." Giles opened his mouth, then closed it, in time for Spike to add, "And you lot found that out already. That's why you put her in mojo stasis in the first place, innit? No choice but to cage the beast." He grabbed a taser from the table, shoving it into his duster pocket. "Let us through."

Giles nodded reluctantly. "Just… be careful. She's highly unstable."

"Don't I know it." Spike grunted. The Slayers stepped out of his way, looking quickly into the darkness of the basement, which was lit only by dim red beacons. It would hamper Dana's sight, but it would also hamper theirs. Or at least Jade's. Spike's night vision was exceptional, as Jade had learned when he had led them through the pitch-blackness of the Spirit dimension. She could trust him, if his head stayed clear. The Slayers gave the pass for Jade and Spike to go. Jade glanced over her shoulder, giving a small, wan smile to Giles, she stepped after Spike into the dark.

"And look for Yvette. That's your first priority," Giles' voice called after them, a reminder as the door clanged shut behind them.

He looked more malevolent bathed in red. He was quick, and silent as they moved through the halls. "We'll check every room on this first level," He commanded to her. "Then move downstairs. You stay in my sight."

"Got it." Jade promised.

"And stay on your bloody guard, alright?" He added curtly. Jade glanced at him, his eyes, looking like black holes flickering back at her.

"I'm always on my guard," Jade insisted, with more fervour than she felt. Not true, not true at all. She was caught unawares far too often. But now, every sense was heightened, on alert. Spike's rigidness was catching, and she wasn't going to be the weak link. But he looked at her, finally losing his uptight attitude to flick a finger at her cheek.

"Bollocks. What do you call that, then?" She was startled more by the fact that he actually touched her, rather than the slight pain his finger brushing her bruised cheek caused her. It was likely a brilliant color on her pale skin, the bruise that Spike had left on her, but it would heal quickly enough. Instead of being offended, she pointed at his side, where he favored it slightly.

"If I remember," She said impertinently, "I was giving you that." He caught her insolent gaze, staring back down at her. Then he smirked, his front dissolving for but a moment, and she answered him with a smile.

"Was a nice shot," He allowed her, almost relaxed. But before she could answer, he had stiffened again, expression somber once more, her more light-hearted Spike slipping back into the backlines. This was all serious, all gruff Spike out to fight now.

"Who is this Dana?" Jade asked Spike as they looked into another room, seeing nothing. One of them always stayed by the doorway, in case the Slayer appeared and tried to shut them in. But the room, like the last couple, was empty. No Dana, no Yvette.

"Slayer gone crazy." Spike answered, quickly, gruffly. He growled at the empty room and the two of them headed down the corridor. They had looked through half of the first basement floor, where there were various rooms. There were no cells here yet, they had to be down further. "Not daft, but absolutely insane."

"Why?" Jade asked, standing in the door way this time as Spike looked through the room. Sounds from the furnace and various machinery made it hard for him to hunt the Slayer by just her heart beat, and as her scent would be all over the lower floor, the two of them were relying mostly on their eyesight.

"Why bloody what?" Spike snapped at her, impatient. Angry.

"There must be a reason for it."

"You ask a lot of bloody questions, Slayer. Keep your eyes on the hall or she'll walk up behind you and make some nice decorations out of your innards." Spike retorted heatedly. Jade glowered at him, before shaking off her own rising acrimony. Spike was upset, for some reason, but she wouldn't let him bounce it off of her.

"I want to know. What we're fighting." Jade said clearly.

"You're not fighting her. I am." Spike bared his teeth at the empty room, stepping back towards the doorway. Jade stood, half blocking him, and he glared at her. She looked up at him, her gaze clear, expression a hell of lot more calmer than his was. Something was wrong, and she wanted to know what it was that was bothering him. She knew him well enough to know that this wasn't normal. "Fine," Spike snapped, at her stubborn stance. "Kidnapped as a little girl by the man who murdered her parents. She was tortured and when she escaped she was barmy. Then she got turned into a Slayer when Buffy decided every girl wonder needed their super on. Now she's a psychotic super-strength murderer." He shoved past Jade, her shoulder stinging from the impact as he stepped into the corridor. "Oh, and she's tormented by the bloody past of all the other Slayers, so since she remembers me from killing two of 'em, she mistakes me for the one who kidnapped her. So we're not on the best of bloody terms."

Jade's gaze followed him silently. Oh. Well she had wanted to know, and now she did. And it helped, really. To know what she—they were facing. She'd never thought about that, about transferring all that strength into someone so unstable. A super-strength murderer, as Spike had put it. She thought of Penelope with all that strength, if she had become the slayer instead of Jade, and Jade shuddered. It was a lot of power, for even the strongest of minds. "So you fought her before?" Jade asked, softly.

She could see the briefest of vulnerability in his eyes, something cross his face. Something—fear. He was trying so hard to hide it, but something about Dana was scaring him. "Yeah. Back when we got her the first time. Well. Angel got her. I wasn't quite prepared for her crazy." He was trying to brush it off, the angry bravado act.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Jade asked, her voice lower. He scoffed, looking at her like she was crazy, too.

"Nothing's wrong, you bint. Now isn't the time for a bloody team meeting. You keep talking, she's going to kill us both, so pay sodding attention, alright?"

"But something… Spike." He was the erratic one, the one who'd blunder into danger if she didn't set him right. Or just find out what was wrong with him. "That's not all of it. Come on… you're… scared."

"I am bloody not!" Spike argued, his voice rising, enough so that Jade flinched. He was loud when they needed to be quiet. "Now shut up or go back." He had never been so angry at her, except when she had nearly let go to be pulled into the portal dimension.

"Spike." She tried again. He turned his back on her, quickly, angrily, meaning to walk away, but she reached for his shoulder instead, a soft, calming gesture, but he jumped, reacting by instinct, his elbow across her throat as he shoved her into the wall, pinning her there. His furious gesture gave way for a second, chagrin on his expression, almost a nervousness.

"Nothing's wrong." He repeated. He couldn't look at her, about to release her, probably try to shove her back up to the hospital, but Jade curled her fingers around his arms, holding him fast. Holding him fast on her throat probably wasn't the smartest idea, but she wouldn't let him go.

"Please tell me," She murmured, not demanding now, but pleading. "Spike, something's scaring you. Something about her."

"Nothing's scar—scaring me!" Spike protested. He ripped his arms furiously from Jade's grasp, falling back against the other wall. He looked at his hands, which had gripped Jade so tightly, and Jade saw that his fingers were trembling. "You're off your bloody rocker. You can't tell me what I feel."

"No, but _you_ can tell _me_. Come on, Spike." She reached tentatively for his hands, which shook, and he pulled his arms back violently before she could reach him. His shoulders ran into the wall, and he stood there, his chest heaving up and down. More normal for a human, but not for a vampire that didn't need to breathe. "Tell me." She commanded him, her tone no longer pleading, but authoritative. His face, shadowed in the red lights, looked haunted, wide eyes looking everywhere but him.

"It's nothing. I'm not afraid of her. I'm-I'm not." Spike stuttered uncertainly. "Just a girl," he spoke her name with that odd inflection of his, that British accent, a light quavering in his tone. The aggression was fading, panic rising there instead. "She won't do it again."

"Do what? Spike." Jade breathed, a softer, gentler tone. She reached again for his hands, and this time, he let her, let her coax his trembling hands into her own steadier ones. She gripped each solely, and his gaze was drawn to hers, finally seeing her.

"My hands." He murmured, finally, a frantic whisper. "Last time, she cut off my hands. Didn't want me to touch her. Thought I was he who took her. Cut off my hands so I couldn't hurt her." His voice was a shuddering breath, that anxiety in his eyes. A panic attack. She didn't know Spike could be stricken with fear as he had. It had happened to her, when she had seen Bennett in the spirit dimension, and her sister practically show up on her door. She thought it was a weakness, that she was weak, for letting it get to her head. But she didn't find Spike weak now. No, somehow, she found him more human. She squeezed his hands.

"They're still attached," She soothed him, reassured him. His hands were limp in her own, then slowly, they squeezed back. His pupils looked so dark in the light, the blue of his eyes a transparent color. He should almost have looked intimidating, but he seemed vulnerable. "You're not going to be alone," She told him. "I'm here. It won't happen to you again."

"No," he said, shaking his head. She looked at him, perplexed, but he was shaking his head. The fear, the vulnerability in his eyes was fading, replaced by something more determined, more confident. The vampire Spike, not the frightened human. "This is my fight. Gotta face it myself. Not let it haunt me." He murmured the last part as if to himself. "I'm not afraid." He took his hands out of her grasp, but this time more gently, pushing back from the wall. "Gotta do this myself." He told her again. "We find the other Slayer, you get her, you get out." He was telling her what he had before. She felt like they had gone in a circle. The determined hunter was back again, pushing past her to check more rooms. But it wasn't quite true. She found out _why_ , at least. Spike was so cocky, so confident in his immortal life. But the thought that he'd lose his hands, his usefulness, his ability to fight. That was scared him, even if he deflected the fear like it wasn't even there. Jade gripped her own hands into fists, missing the feel of his cold skin in hers. She shook the thought away, knowing she had pushed enough. He wanted to get it done, so they would.

They stopped at the top of the stairs, peering down into more darkness, the maroon lights that penetrated darkness just enough. "Must be down there, then," Spike spoke, mostly into silence. "Not behind us."

"No," Jade agreed, to reassure him if anything. She wouldn't come from behind them, they would hunt her down like Spike wanted. He moved forward, no hesitation, each muscle tensed, languid and vigilant like the predator he was. He had said it himself, he had hunted Dana's kind before, killed them. Jade's kind. Two Slayers. Something a Vampire should be able to boast of, especially one as young as Spike. A vampire four hundred years old maybe, but one who killed two in under a century and a half, that was impressive. She couldn't fault him for what he had done before his soul. She had never seen it, what he had been like back then. Brief memories that weren't his, borrowed from Tara and Anya painted a bit of a picture, but not the whole thing. She really had no idea who he had been before she met him. And all she felt was intense desire, wishing she could have been there. Could have helped. Kept Dana from cutting off his hands. She'd do it this time.

"Heartbeat," Spike murmured, clutching at her wrist and pulling her to a complete stop. The two of them stopped in the corridor. Jade listened, but she didn't have Spike's hearing. "Not moving around," He whispered, the voice coming from near her ear. If he was a human, his breath would have tickled her skin, but as it was, it was an strangely detached voice. "Weak, but steady." He sniffed. "There's some blood. This way." She nodded to his soft, quiet commands, let him lead her to one of the adjoining rooms. They could just see her in the darkness, a nearly still body.

"Not Dana," Spike stated.

"Yvette." Jade breathed. She kneeled beside the young girl. As Spike had said, there was some blood, trickling from a wound at her forehead. Jade shook her gently, but the girl didn't respond, face serene and expressionless. "Unconscious," Jade didn't reach for her pulse, Spike would have told her if her heart had stopped being. "Head wound, maybe a concussion." She pulled the girl up into her arms.

"Take her back to Giles." Spike was telling her, his voice further away as he wandered back to the doorway.

She felt panic in her chest. This had been what she promised, but now hearing it... "Spike, you can't go alone," Jade blurted.

"This is what you bloody agreed to," Spike hissed, voice dripping with acrimony. "Now do it."

"But Spike, you're… You shouldn't face her alone."

"I can handle it!" He exclaimed, angrily, then his voice got closer as he swiveled back to her. "I'm not your sodding problem. You have a job to do. Be useful and bloody do it. And I'll do mine."

"Spike…" Jade tried one more time, but she knew it was futile before she could even finish saying his name. "Good luck." She said instead, instead of 'be careful' or 'let me stay with you'. He wasn't a child, wasn't someone that wanted to be looked after. He had tolerated her because he was his equal, not because she tried to be his caretaker.

"I'll be back soon." Spike promised her, gruff, but more kind. Then she saw his retreating back in the flash of red light, and his departing footsteps. Jade glanced down at her care, taking a deep breath. He was right, she had a job to do. The girl was okay, for the most part. Not hacked up. Struck once to be left unconscious, and that was it. Jade lifted her up tenderly, grunting a bit at the exertion. The girl weighed more than her, but Jade was a Slayer. She was strong again, not the woman who nearly died in the hotel bed. She held the young girl gingerly in her arms. She wasn't able to reach for her weapon, not with her arms full, so speed would have to do. Spike would keep Dana from getting to them. Jade just had to get Yvette to safety.

And leave Spike to face his nightmare on his own.


	45. Chapter 44

**44**

He was the hunter. All his senses, attuned. Waiting for a single distortion, something to reveal his prey. The space where she could hide was becoming smaller and smaller by the moment, by each room that Spike searched by himself. He was alone now. He heard Jade's groan of exertion, then twin departing heartbeats as she carried the other Slayer away. She hadn't hesitated, but done it. Made it more quiet now. Easier to hunt. _But alone_. His treacherous inner voice taunted him, as it had since they had first made their way into the basement. _Isolated again. At her mercy_. Except he wasn't. He gripped the needle firmly in his hand. One quick jab. Maybe a few punches first. He'd get her. Be about bloody time. Didn't need Angel, didn't need Jade. He could best this monster by himself. Except she wasn't a monster. Just an ordinary girl, once. Stolen and tortured. Brutalized. Then, further twisted by the imaginings of a thousand Slayers, their last battle cries, their bitter ends. She wasn't a monster, but she was the object of Spike's own nightmares. Her smirking face, streaked with blood. Prowling around him like she was the predator. God. He shuddered. Stay focused. He wasn't the hunted. The advantage was his. Just had to be smart about it. Wouldn't lose his head. Or more importantly, his hands. Ha. God. Ha.

He'd almost had a goddamn anxiety attack in front of Jade. Right bloody hero he was. Scared by a girl. Couldn't focus, all he could do was look at his hands, try to convince himself that they were still there. And then Jade, damn Jade in her pestering buggerness, drawing her hands into his own. The heat of them, the blood pounding beneath her flesh had reminded him that his existed. His hands that were cold, dead flesh, they still curled and felt, felt her fingers entwined around his. Then there had been that jump, that comprehension, and he had broken free of his terror, long enough to focus, to feel embarrassed. So he had snapped back at her, to hide his own humiliation. Didn't thank her, like he should. Thank her for reminding him he still had his hands. He was Spike. He was never afraid. Threw himself in the thick of danger for the heck of it. Shouldn't be afraid of what lurked in the basement when he used to _be_ what lurked in the basement.

Her smell was all around here. Not Jade's, but Dana's. He had made it to the cells. Knew which one was hers. There was no furniture but a chair. No manacles, no shackles. She had been held by Willow's impenetrable magical prison. Ha. Not so impenetrable after all. Doomed to break. Doomed to let her roam free, again. At least there were no drawings this time, like she had decorated her institution's room with pictures of all the Slayers' past lives. No, this one was just cold and empty, like Dana's eyes when she took on someone's persona other than her own, the murderous killer that would hack and hack and—

Spike shook his head, stopping, pressing his forehead to the equally cold bars. Shit. He had to focus. "Bloody hell," He murmured. Felt that panic rising in him again. Couldn't feel his hands, couldn't feel how they shook. Didn't have Jade this time. But he could feel his arms. Shaking, he brought his hands into view. He could see them perfectly in the darkness. One still gripped the syringe But they wouldn't move. He felt paralyzed, that tremoring playing hell with his fingers. He couldn't curl his hands into a ball, couldn't do anything. His hands, his hands, his hands. Where were his hands? God. He felt dizzy. Couldn't breathe. Didn't need to breathe. He was a vampire. A vampire with no hands. He could see them but not use them. Just shake and shake and shake—

There was a clatter. Not a clatter. A light shift. A human wouldn't hear it, but Spike could. It was quieter down here, not as much machinery and clanging as a floor up. Bitch thought she was sneaky. Thought she was the hunter. God, he was going to drop the syringe. If he couldn't control his hands, couldn't feel it, it would smash to the floor. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? Scared? He was never scared. Never terror stricken, not like this. Not since the First had wormed its way into his head. Bloody basements. They were the goddamn bane of his bloody existence. First in the school basement, the First getting into his head. Then in the basement of Wolfram & Hart, haunted by bloody Pavayne. No more sodding basements.

"Come for round two, have you?" Spike shouted, finding his voice. She was near. That heartbeat he heard wasn't his own. He didn't have one. It was hers. Could smell her somewhere near, hear her soft shuffling. The thought was enough to jar him clear. She was near, and he wasn't going to die in a bloody basement. He could feel again, the trembling in his fingers had stopped, and he could clutch the syringe, clearly now. Could hear past the woosh of water and electricity, ignore the hums and search for that light, steady heartbeat. "You'll find I'm a bit of a whole man again, pet. Have you got it in you?"

There was no answer. And then, another shift. A soft murmuring, there she was, standing down from him, down the corridor connecting the cells. Standing across from him, her stance steady, open. Waiting for him, head cocked, hair drooping down, loose and wild. Feral, like the rest of her. He didn't smell blood on her this time. She had just hit the other Slayer and let her fall, hadn't decorated herself in it like she had her other kills. She had a piece of something in her hand, wood, likely, from some loose pallet. Thanks a bloody lot, Slayerettes. He shouldn't be too surprised they had wood down here in some form or another, but having it in the hands of another Slayer who wanted to kill him was not comforting. But she wouldn't get the chance. He was calmer now, calmer with the possibility that she just wanted to kill him. Kill him, not take his hands. Just—

"Head and heart," Dana recited.

"Not that bollocks again," Spike sneered. He could be confident. He could be the big bad. Wouldn't be afraid of the little girl.

"Piece by piece." Dana answered. "Shouldn't have come back. Not yours to hurt."

He could have been comforting. Tried to convince her that he wasn't there to hurt her. But he had tried that before. And he couldn't take the risk. Couldn't think that he talked her down just to have her turn all psycho on him, get the better of him. No, couldn't risk it. Just had to subdue her and take that out of the equation. No use trying to appeal to the girl inside. She was gone. Gone for a long time, too twisted now to be anything else. Don't see the girl. That was his mistake last time. Hesitation. Not this time. "Oh, but I wouldn't dream of missing our reunion. Come on. Show me what you got."

Dana looked at him, drawing her tongue over her bottom lip, her head veered to one angle. She looked limp, relaxed. Then, as he took a step towards her, she reacted like a wild cat, her expression changing to that of the beast, teeth bared, eyes narrowed, she howled and attacked. She wasn't dulled by chemicals, hadn't been weaker. Kept in stasis by Red's power, whatever that meant. Not eating, not anything. Just stuck there. Maybe she should have energy, maybe not. Spike didn't know. He vamped immediately. Wasn't going to rely on her inner humanity, if she even had any left. He needed strength to defeat her. He swung at her, punching her in the cheek. It was reminiscent of fighting Jade, only an hour ago, except Jade had been holding back. Dana advanced on him without preamble, the technique of a thousand Slayers. She punched him, and he fell, clattering to the ground. He brought his hand up in the last second, protecting the syringe. Damn well better not let that get broken. Wasn't like he could push her face to the mixture and make her lap it up. Not a domesticated feline, that was for sure. She grabbed him by the arm, throwing him against the wall. He blocked her next attack, giving her a punch to the shoulder that slowed but didn't stop her. She kneed him in the stomach and tossed him over her shoulder. He rolled to the ground, saw that they had switched positions. Now she was nearer freedom, and his back was to the cells. Not bloody comforting.

He gripped his syringe tighter, and she, the stake. "Hands not enough," Dana murmured. "Stab the heart—"

"Cut off the head. Yeah, yeah. Been through this dance before, Pet. Mind if we don't relive all the steps?" He raised the needle to her neck, she slapped his hand away. She aimed her stake at his chest, and he kicked her leg, causing her to stumble. Dana punched him back with her stakeless hand—hard. He could feel bones pop and crack, his ribs fracturing under the stress. He roared in pain, charging into her. She jutted her feet into his stomach, lifting him up and away. He fell on his back, his hand hitting the cement ground.

"No!" He cried out, horrified as the syringe slipped from his fingers, bouncing to the ground. Bouncing, but not breaking. He sprang, reaching for it, desperately, feeling a weight on his back as the feral Slayer knocked into him with a wild cry. She tried pinning him down, sitting on top of him, her legs tangled with his. She raised the stake above her head with both hands, a slow, executioner's style, trying to bring it down on him, but he caught her forearms with his hand. His muscles tensed, arms straining against her weight. It was reminiscent again of Jade, when her damn sister-watcher made them fight each other. Except when he was trying to kill her, she was trying to save him. Using all her strength. Half of her strength, most of her strength, to keep him alive. He didn't have the disadvantage of having to split his focus. It was just Spike against Dana. And he was bloody sure that that stake was not going to spear his chest. "Couldn't get me last time," he choked out, vehement and defiant. "And you're no stronger, pet."

"Keep cutting…." Dana snarled.

"Until you see dust." Spike and Dana spoke in unison. "Let's see if you can do it, then." Spike taunted, his tongue slipping through his bared teeth, rolling it across his bottom lip. She hissed wordlessly at him, her own arms shaking as she tried to bring the stake down on him. Her eyes slipped to him, distracted for a moment, and he jerked he knee up, toppling her to one side. He fished the stake from her hand, elbowing her in the jaw. She fell to the side, although reacted with an uppercut when he tried slamming her into the ground. He fell backwards, dazed, but hanging onto the stake. Bitch wasn't going to dust him with that, that was for damn sure.

But that wasn't what she wanted. She had scrambled away from him, reaching for the object that had fallen to the floor. Oh God, no. All the triumph drained from him. She held the syringe in her hand. Holding it strongly, surely. Knew how to use it. Of course she knew how to use it. Had plunged it into his neck into the thick of battle, hadn't she? Knocked him right down. Right unconscious. Cut off his hands. Oh god, she was going to do it again. He wasn't strong enough. She had won. He was too scared, too weak. Little William can't handle a little girl. Oh God, Oh God. He could think straight. The terror was like an odor, smothering him. His own fear. That smirk on her lips, brandishing the syringe like a toy. Predator. "Losing all your pieces," She crooned.

Oh God, no.

He forgot for a moment that he was even holding a weapon. He felt as if he had been stripped of it. His fingers shook. He couldn't feel his hands. The hysteria took over him. Waking up with bloody stumps. Useless for eternity. Immortal with no hands. No use. Torture for eternity. He deserved it. Deserved it then, deserved it now. Oh God, where were his hands? Trembling, shaking, useless things. He fell to his knees. Scared little William, scared little Spike. Couldn't face his nightmare. Couldn't face his nightmare and win. She came at him, a blur, her wild hair swinging in front of her face. He couldn't react, wasn't fast enough. But then he rolled, dodging her at the last second, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. Couldn't use his hands. But he had his feet. Couldn't feel his hands, but he could kick her. He planted his foot in her stomach, and she fell backwards. Just keep her away. She picked herself back up.

Not smirking now, not playing. Serious looking, dangerous. Her eyes narrowed, a guttural growl sounded from her throat. "Won't hurt me again. Came back. But you won't."

He didn't have an answer for her this time. He felt metal bars sink into his shoulder, the cage that he had pressed up against. A wall behind him. Not smart. She flew at him like a wild cat. An outstretched hand socked him in the jaw and he stumbled. Couldn't use his hands still. Couldn't even see it, his head felt like it was spinning. God, why couldn't he snap out of it? He was Spike. Never froze at anything. He felt another punch to his head. Felt his lip split, nose starting to bleed again. He grunted, purely reactionary. He was dazed. She pulled him up and flung him down to the ground, instead of against the bars. She gripped him with one hand, grabbing the collar of his shirt. He raised his half-lidded eyes to her, blood dripping from his mouth. He didn't know when he had de-vamped, but his face was human now. She held the syringe, poised to stab. Then, he felt it. A twinge in his hands. He had his hands again. Could use his hands again.

But too late. Wasn't soon enough. Couldn't get over himself fast enough. He rose his hands but it was too late. She was swinging it. Soon he wouldn't be able to feel his hands again. Wouldn't be able to feel anything. He closed his eyes. Didn't hear anything, didn't feel anything. Waited for that second before she struck him.

But something struck Dana first. He hadn't heard the footsteps, the heartbeat, even her breathing. His eyes opened widely as something lifted Dana off of him, away from him, a dark, quick figure. Jade, her chest heaving up and down, standing in between him and Dana, her back to him. There she was. He should be angry, but he was so bloody relieved. God, getting saved by a girl again. Seemed to be his lot in life. But there she was. Jade could take down Dana. He was sure of it. Nothing to be scared of. Jade stood in front of Dana, her hands holding the tranquilizer gun. Dana's eyes were wide, mouth dropped, crouching lower to the ground as if she was an animal. Spike tensed, waiting for Jade to shoot Dana with the darts. If she missed, she could still take Dana in hand-to-hand. And Spike was here now. He was no longer scared. Relieved—and comforted, by Jade being there. But she wasn't shooting yet, just standing there with her gun pointed at Dana.

"Just bloody shoot her already," Spike hissed, confused. She wasn't moving, she was barely breathing now. Jade and Dana just stared at each other. Dana recovered first, growling. She took a step towards them, syringe murderously in hand, but Jade didn't shoot. Instead, she started to lower her gun. Spike looked at her like she was crazy, previous relief that she was here dissipating into actual proof that she was just as flipping barmy as Dana was. "What the blood—"

Jade lowered the gun, holding out an open palm instead.

"Doesn't hurt if you hold still," Dana promised, her mantra, her sick, twisted idea of what a person was. Someone who hurt someone else. Dana came closer, intrigued, her eyes alight, ecstatic. Ready to hurt. Ready to bloody kill, and Jade had lowered her defense like an idiotic bint.

"Please don't." Jade said. Dana paused, then, staring at Jade. Dana looked confused, tilting her head. "Please don't hurt." Jade murmured. Dana's mouth opened, gaping, not knowing what to make of her.

"Just knock her out already, Slayer!" Spike hissed. He had started to rise, but then Jade was turning towards him, her hand on his shoulder, strong, forcing, pushing him back to his knees. His eyes widened, staring at her. She was barely looking at him, keeping her eyes on Dana. What the hell—

"Are you barmy?" He demanded. "We can take her. Are you going to let us kill her? What the hell will that—"

Jade swung her head towards him, her expression soft, vulnerable. Like a small child. Her eyes were gentle, sad almost, lips open as she murmured, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course not!" He snapped, "Not right now, you—"

"Spike." She whispered, again. Begging him with those blue eyes that were pale white in the red lights. "Can you trust me?"

He opened his mouth, shut it again. What the hell was she even asking for? Dana didn't seem to know what to make of them. She had glared each time Spike spoke, growling, but each time Jade swung her head back in her direction, that soft, sad face, Dana's own expression had softened, and she looked soft.

"Please." Jade murmured, to him, and then turned her head back towards Dana. "Don't hurt," She asked of Dana.

"Head and heart. He hurt my head. My heart. No more mommy." Dana began to babble, looking lost, confused. Insane, like she damn well was, and Jade placed her gun on the ground. On the ground! She was insane. Dana still held the syringe. Probably enough of a dose for both of them. Jade was keeping one of her hands on Spike's shoulder, gesturing him to stay down. Then she too kneeled. Kneeled in front of Dana. Completely at her mercy. Completely, utterly insane. Jade could overpower Dana. Just beat the crazy bitch. Not this submissive shit that she was pulling. "No more daddy." Dana continued, her wide brown eyes focused on Jade as Jade crouched before her, making a smaller target. An easier target. "Kill him like he killed them." She gripped the syringe, murderous, that deranged look in her wild eyes.

"Please don't." Jade whispered. Dana halted, confused again, her hand shaking in the air. "Don't hurt us. Please." Jade murmured.

"Jade—" Spike warned, and her hand gripped his shoulder tightly. Enough to hurt even. She was warning him right back. She was going to get them both killed. And yet. All she wanted was his trust. He'd asked for it before, when they were fighting each other because of her sister. Asked for her trust and she had given it. And the last thing she had murmured on her deathbed was that she trusted him. She had come back here to save him, and he couldn't give her one goddamn second of thinking that she knew what she was doing. She had been loopy a couple of times, but never unstable, never insane. Jade was steady, reliable. She could fight and she could stand down. She was dependant. And she would never willingly put his life in danger. He should know that before now, when she fought even harder to keep him from being dusted than from keeping her own throat from being throat. He was a sodding bastard. Fighting her when she was trying to save their lives. Trying to help. He was a ponce to her, when she was nothing but kind. She had to ask twice for his trust, and he still hadn't answered, when she had never hesitated. "I trust you," He murmured. Quiet, but she had heard, her fingers squeezing his shoulder, not to hurt him, but a gentler nudge. A thank you. With that, she could turn her attention completely to Dana, who was still staring at her like she was a ghost.

"Hurt. Hurt me. Broke my—cut and… blood." Dana stared off, vacant. Her hand holding the syringe faltered, she lowered it to her waist level. "Piece by piece. Lost it all."

"Not all," Jade said softly. "Still have some left."

"Head and heart." Dana repeated quietly, her gaze falling off the two of them, looking dazedly through the half-darkness before wandering back. Her lip curled. "Cut off the head." She raised the syringe, standing directly in front of Jade this time, her downswing being enough to stick the needle into Jade's neck if Dana wanted to. Not bloody happening. He tensed, and Jade's hand tensed in reaction, squeezing another warning on his shoulder. Wanting him to stay still. Not like Dana could get them both. If the psycho Slayer attacked Jade, Spike could still put Dana down with no harm to Jade. He was pretty sure. He was a vampire, he was fast. But all his senses called out against this unnecessary risk.

"Please don't," Jade said. Those words working on Dana, as they had. The woman halted, uncertainly, her bottom lip trembling.

"He hurt…" Dana's voice cracked. "Broken."

"You're not alone," Jade soothed, the same words she had said to Spike when he couldn't feel his hands, when he had panicked, the terror seizing through him. And then he watched, stricken once more as Jade foolishly reached for Dana. He expected the unstable Slayer to stick her right then there, and he prepared to move. But Jade reached out, gently and softly, taking Dana's unarmed hand within her own, pale against Dana's darker skin. "Look," Jade murmured. "Broken. But healed." She was comparing the fingers of Dana's with her own. Spike could see it now. He had never noticed. Dana's fingers were off-kilter, some of them. They had been broken and never healed properly. He wasn't surprised. He knew that she had been tortured. Had seen—and experienced—some of the tools that had done it. But he was more surprised to see that Jade's fingers, while not as extremely, held that off-kilter tilt. Near the middle joint of a few of her fingers, they were at an odd angle. He couldn't tell until she spread open her fingers, showing Dana. Dana looked down, her eyes wide, hazed. Dana mumbled to herself, words that didn't make sense. She dragged a finger across Jade's, feeling Jade's hand in her own. "You can heal too." Jade continued in a gentle voice. Dana began shaking.

"No, no, no." Dana mumbled, tears gathering her brown eyes as she shook her head erratically. The syringe hovered. It was so hard for Spike to keep his mouth shut, to observe instead of help. Dana was beyond reaching, wasn't she? He had tried, and failed.

"We're the same, you and I." Jade told her. "Chosen."

"No, no, no." Dana ran her fingers through her disheveled hair, clutching at her strands instead of Jade's hands, letting them fall from her grasp. The syringe was held precariously, Jade could easily disarm Dana if she tried. Spike was expecting her to, that this was an elaborate and not overly foolish ploy to distract and disarm Dana without too much violence. But the Slayer still hadn't made a move. "Broken, broken. Can't be fixed. Need more building. More fixing. Cut, cut. Bash."

"I know what it's like," Jade murmured. "I know the pain. The hurt. You didn't deserve it. You don't. You're not broken. You're not alone. You're strong, Dana."

"Strong," Dana echoed in her frenzied murmuring. "Slayer. Strong. Won't be hurt again."

"No, you won't." Jade promised. "They won't hurt you anymore. Us, anymore. End the pain, come on." She extended her hand, this time waiting for Dana to take it.

"He'll hurt—he'll kill—" Dana's gaze found Spike's again, her brow furrowing, even as the tears gleamed down her cheek. "Won't let him. Not weak. Keep cutting until you see dust. Protect me. Protect you from him." She bared her teeth.

"Protect him too." Jade murmured. "He's not dangerous. He's afraid. Like me, like you." Spike opened his mouth to protest, and then Jade turning towards him, reaching for one of his hands. He hesitated, and then let her take it. She was bloody mad, she was. But he promised trust. He let her grip his hand, relieved he could still feel it. His hands hadn't shook for several minutes, and he could still feel them. His fear was somewhat abated, although uncertainty invaded him instead. "He won't hurt." She gripped his hand, and Dana looked at their joint hands, bewildered.

"Vampire. Can't turn back. He'll—he'll—"

"He's not hurting me. Are you going to?" Jade asked gently. Dana stared at her. "Are you going to hurt us?" Jade prompted. "Like the man hurt you?"

"Not him. Not like him," Dana shook her head violently. "Never hurt." She made a low whimper in her throat.

"Then give me that," Jade gestured to the needle. "And we can go upstairs. Away from here."

"Can't trust. Won't trust. More white walls, more yellow, more brown. Make me weak, make me sleepy. No, no." Dana murmured.

"Bloody hell, Slayer," Spike hissed. "She won't do it. She's too far gone."

"Never too far gone," Jade interjected with a look at Spike. "You're proof. She can come back." He looked at her as if she was crazy. Sure, Spike was 'good' now, whatever the hell that meant. Got his soul back. Had to spend the rest of his unlife redeeming for everything he had done, if he ever could. He doubted the good could ever outweigh the bad. That sometimes there was no point even trying. He wasn't doing it to become even, he didn't think he could tip the scale. But he did what he could now because it was the right thing to do. He used to do it just for Buffy. So she could love him. Well, he hadn't advanced very far on that front, but it was still important to him. That he could do good. But Dana? Some didn't come back from what they suffered. Dru for example. She had been mostly lucid once. Somewhat. Angelus had broken her like a dolly, and she had never come back from that. But she didn't have a soul either. Would it even make a difference. If this was Dru standing here, would he argue her point, or would he try to stake her. He didn't know.

"Gone," Dana repeated dully.

"Still here." Jade argued vehemently. "I'm here. You can be too. We're the same, you and I." She promised in a whisper. "Follow your heart. Trust your head." Dana opened her mouth and closed it. Then, slowly, almost impossibly, she placed the needle in Jade's open palm. With a snap, Jade broke it, without letting the glass sink into her palm, and let the pieces fall to the floor. Now Dana stood unarmed, as Jade did.

"Bloody hell…" Spike said again, this time in a surprised whisper. Jade released his hand, standing up in front of Dana. She was just a couple inches shorter than the crazed Slayer. Jade gestured with open palms, and Dana accepted them, slowly slipping her hands into Jade's, entwining their fingers, jerkily and uncertainly. Spike followed suit, standing to his full height. "Jesus Christ," He couldn't stop from saying. Waiting for Dana to go psycho like his instincts were screaming at him to expect. But she stood there, and as Jade gently pulled her towards the exit, she began to follow, before Spike's disbelieving eyes. He couldn't relax, not really, but Jade kept pulling Dana along with soothing murmurs, and Dana was somehow responding. It couldn't be true. Sure, a moment of lucidity, but it'd be over soon, and she'd be a wild animal once more. A wild animal that let herself be led through the opening doorway into the tunnel that Spike had come from. Up to the hotel. Unbelievable. "Barmy," He muttered under his breath, shaking his head once more. And then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he pushed away his doubts, at least for the moment, and followed the entwined Slayers. Perhaps insanity _was_ catching, but he'd give it a chance. Jade had gotten Dana this far, he'd wait to see if it would make a difference. To see if there was some hope.


	46. Chapter 45

**AN:** _Thank you so much for all the reception the last couple of days, the follows and favorites and of course, the reviews. It means so much to me that you are enjoying it, and I hope I continue to write a story you enjoy. I have many, many plans, and I hope you find them as interesting as me. I appreciate all of you for reading, and for the reviews, and I write these chapters for all of you as well as me. I hope you enjoy, and thank you again to LovingAnything, EveWrites, MarshWolffe and a very lovely Guest reviewer for taking the time to review, I love reading comments, good or bad!_

 **45**

"This is quite…" Giles seemed absolutely astounded, looking at the unkempt, unsteady Slayer before him. Dana was looking at him under her mess of hair. Her agitation had increased since they had stepped out from the darkness of the basement and up to the hotel. She was growling a bit more under her breath, a bit of utterances from languages that Jade didn't understand, and Jade could feel the growing tension in Dana's grip on her hand, but the unstable Slayer _was_ still gripping her hand. She hadn't become violent, mostly compliant. And the same was for Spike. Though the vampire hadn't let his eyes leave Dana, and he had kept a careful distance between them, he had stopped any more verbal outbursts or jibes and had followed them—not quite willingly, but resignedly, trusting Jade. That helped the most. That he had trusted her. She had taken quite a chance with Dana, she knew that. But she had seen Dana, and she hadn't expected to see something that she recognized, but she did. The broken hands—that was something Jade felt, understood. The horror in Dana's eyes, it had never gone quite that far with Jade, but it could have. Could have been worse. She could have cracked, and she hadn't yet, but maybe it had gotten closer than Jade would have liked to believe. She could have gone on a rampage after learning of Pen's betrayal, rather than exiling herself to Haven.

Could have done a lot of things, could be worse than she was today. And Dana could be better. There had to be some hope. Dana was nervously gnawing at a knuckle, obviously not sharing the same optimism. And the two Slayers that had guarded the door, though they lowered their weapons at Jade's behest, hadn't let down their guard, eyes trailing Dana's every move like hunting a target. Spike was the same way. He had relaxed for now, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was very ready to intervene if something rubbed his senses the wrong way.

Jade turned towards Dana, taking a loose lock of her hair and brushing it behind her ear. Jade was careful, almost slothlike in her slow movements, but amazingly, Dana let her, didn't react except for a slight shake of her pupils. Letting Jade brush her hair like Dana was a child. "I figured there could be another way," Jade admitted. "Than just pumping her full of tranquilizer."

"No sleep, no weak," Dana cried out, her hand reaching to grip Jade's forearm. Spike stiffened, but Jade could handle Dana's strong grip. Her nails weren't long enough to pierce Jade's pale skin, and if she left a bruise, it would heal.

"No weak." Jade affirmed, glancing at Giles, who looked a bit more anxious about the ordeal. "Right?" Giles made a slight face, a grimace, and nodded slowly.

"We'll do our best," He said, and Jade nodded. She wanted Dana to have another option; not magic, not drugs, but Giles had plenty others to think about, and they couldn't put all the other Slayers in danger. Especially since the youngest were in the hotel, their 'big sisters' out on mission. And Jade understood that. One or the many, and the many had to win out. But if she could help Dana, she wanted to. She felt attached to the lost Slayer, even if she had gone down a dark road. More than that, she had been lost to the depths of the unforgiving ocean, and it had claimed her relentlessly. The poor girl she was that had been kidnapped, tortured. Her parents gone, her whole life at jeopardy, doomed to remain the rest of her life stuck in magic purgatory? It didn't seem right. It seemed _easy_ , a quick standby option until they could figure out something to do with Dana, but it wasn't right. It was the safest option, but it didn't have the best outcome. Jade wanted the best outcome for her. Wanted a chance that she would be okay.

It wasn't like Dana was a vampire. She still had a soul. But maybe that was worse. She had feelings, she was tortured, reminded constantly of what had happened to her. She still had inhibitions, still had scares. One thing about being soulless was an absence of conscience, of guilt. Jade had thought what she would do without guilt weighing down on her, for killing Bennett, and not doing it quickly enough, not before five human beings took the fall first. Guilt for breaking her sister's back, maliciously and purposefully. She wondered how much Dana was worn down by what had happened with her. She hadn't the chance to build any good memories, so all she could do was relive her heartbreaking past. Maybe she had a chance now, maybe she didn't. After returning Yvette, Jade had asked Giles a bit more about Dana. Wasn't a full report, but maybe knowing every single gruesome detail would just make things worse. But she knew enough to have Dana grip her hand, trust Jade just enough to take her to another room.

At some point Spike was gone, silent and quick, disappearing away into the rising dawn. Jade oversaw Dana eating a meal, escorting her to a hotel room, one on the top floor with a locked balcony. It was still a cell of sorts, but it was an upgrade to being locked in the basement. Jade left Dana to sleep, fitlessly but still without a single violent episode. Jade left two unnerved but stoic young Slayers to watch Dana's room, and returned to Willow and Kennedy's joint rooms, where Sophie was still sleeping in her own bedroom. The sun had just risen, Jade beginning to nod off in a chair in Willow and Kennedy's empty room when there was a knock on the door. Jade woke quickly enough, looking to the blinds to make sure they were closed, a habit she had gained from having Spike check on her so often, but she still didn't know who was at the door. Couldn't just expect it to be Spike, it could easily be Giles with yet another caution and hesitant doubt that bringing Dana up and unsedated was a bad idea, so Jade forced away a yawn and stepped over to the door.

It _was_ Spike. There he was, standing before her. He was looking better, none of that fear that he held in the basement, or the anger either. "Figured you had enough time having a kip while you were bedridden," He said, not the slightest bit apologetic for waking her. Jade glowered at him, but mostly out of good-natured spite, opening the door and letting him in.

"Sophie's still sleeping. I think," Jade spoke as Spike swept into the room. He sat down into the chair that Jade had been sitting in, leading her to give him another glare that didn't have too much effort behind it.

"Yeah. Girl's heart is steady, breathing." Spike shrugged easily. Jade knew she shouldn't be surprised by his hearing anymore, he had exercised that incredible ability of his often, but Jade still managed to find herself awed by it from time to time. She wondered why. It wasn't because Spike acted too human for her to believe his vampiric qualities. He didn't breathe, didn't make the motions like a recently-turned vampire might, didn't blush, didn't move unnecessarily. He was as still and as silent as stone when he wanted to be. Not human at all. Yet… what she had seen in the tunnels, the panic attacks that were so out of character for him, _that_ , that was the most human she had ever seen in Spike. He had been genuinely out of his own control, stricken. "Here," Spike added unexpectedly, fishing a bottle out of his duster jacket. "Nicked this from Watcher Rupert's secret stash." It was vodka of some kind, and Spike took a long swig before passing it to Jade. She held it in her hands, smelling the heavy pungent aroma of it, tapping her fingers absently on the glass without taking a drink.

"Did you come here to lecture me?" Jade asked, without preamble and without any bitterness in her tone. Just curiosity, as she perched on the end of Kennedy and Willow's made bed.

"More Watcher Botcher's gig than it is mine," Spike shrugged. He shook out a cigarette into his palm, and seeing Jade's eyes narrow, he raised his own eyebrows. "What? Can't open the windows, not without lighting more than just the cigarette on fire."

"Not my room. And Sophie's next door."

"You know, for one that doesn't like kids all that well, your mate—"

"Do not say maternal instincts," Jade blanched. She couldn't help it. She had been rather immature about the whole having kids thing, and she still was. She didn't want them, never had, although she had been told over and over again that it was a phase she'd get over when she got older. She took a mouthful of the bottle, trying not to make another face. Bit ironic to work at a liquor store if she didn't drink all that often, but she didn't want to reject Spike's peace offering, or whatever it was. She took another mouthful, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and passing the bottle back to Spike as he continued to speak, leaning out of his chair to snatch it back from her fingers.

"Takin' care of mini-wicca over there, and let's not forget your most recent psycho fledging you've taken under your wing…"

"I haven't taken her under my wing." Jade sighed, dragging her fingers through her hair to untangle it. From the messy, quick braid she had stuffed it into before sparring with Spike it had fallen out in hectic, disarrayed strands, and was fraught with tangles. "Just want an option rather than keeping her chained up for the rest of her life."

"Might not be any other choice there, Slayer." Spike cautioned her, his tone even now, serious, but somehow still sympathetic as he pocketed the cigarettes without lighting one, taking another swig. "Damn Rupert hiding the bourbon," He muttered, mostly to himself.

"I know." Jade said, and she did. "Just wanted a chance."

"Been thinking about that. Bloody dangerous, and damned reckless." He arched his scarred eyebrow as he spoke, that miffed edge sinking back into his tone, looking back at her like she was crazy for taking the risks that she had.

"I know." Jade repeated, more admittance than a defense. She knew it was dangerous, that Dana could have seriously hurt Jade if she had tried. That Jade was lucky, _lucky,_ not smart or experienced, but lucky that she had talked the unstable Slayer down from attacking.

"You told her that you were the same," Spike continued, less angry, more thoughtful now, but his eyes gleamed, daring her to deny him. "What'd you mean by that?"

Jade hesitated. "We're both Slayers. That's what I meant." She couldn't meet his gaze, and that was a dead giveaway, so she took a breath and brought her eyes to his unwavering ones. Not that it mattered, he seemed to be rather skilled at seeing through her crappy fronts. But it was more luggage of hers, she didn't want to dump on him. More pages that could just stay unread. She didn't want sympathy. Respect, yes. Understanding. Trust. But not pity.

"Yeah, bollocks. What did you mean. And about the hand stuff, too. Come on, You hassled me. I get to hassle you back. 'Cause I said so," he added the last part petulantly as she opened her mouth, to argue, to agree, it might have gone each way. But he was right. She had pestered him for the truth about his fears, and he deserved her sharing the same courtesy. Even if she had had to basically squeeze it out of him, he definitely had put up a fight in that regard, it hadn't been easy, not in the slightest.

"I'm not saying I experienced what she did," Jade stated first, hastily. Spike waited, his face carefully patient but expectant. "She was tortured. By someone she didn't know. I know that. I just…" She whet her lips, wringing her fingers erratically through her hair. "Slayer training." She said at last. "Pen was up front about the life of a Slayer. Short lived. Painful. She wanted me to be ready. So I'd have these… enduring exercises." She massaged the knuckles of her fingers, the couple of bones that hadn't set perfectly right. "It wasn't as bad when I was a potential. I'd get hit, take some bruises, then have to train with some aches. Not a big deal. Have to donate some blood, and then train feeling dizzy and low on blood. But it got a little more extreme when I became a Slayer. Not as many restrictions, not with my healing. And I think that's when it exacerbated things, that I was Chosen, and I really was the daughter for my mom's prophecy." Jade scoffed at that, rubbing her neck.

"But that's when it got worse." Jade continued. "The broken fingers? I had to have my hands broken one day. To see that I could still grip a stake through the pain and stake a vampire. I wouldn't just be training with disadvantages, after I was… hit, I'd have to go out and find a vampire to fight. More than just bruises after that. Broken ribs, broken arm. Had to hold my breath under water until I felt like my lungs were going to burst, because vampires couldn't breathe under water, and I had to be prepared if that happened. Shocked. Burned. Didn't matter, because most things I healed. No scars, none at all. Maybe a couple on my bones, but you can't see those. And I wanted to succeed, so I never said anything. Took it all. I accepted it more after Bennett died. I had failed my cruciamentum, but I wanted to prove I could still be a good Slayer. Didn't think of it of anything but training. Letting myself get beaten before going out on patrol just seemed normal. Helped my pain tolerance. Helped me." Jade couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of her tone. "Look, I'm not saying that I know Dana's pain. Yeah, maybe it was torture, what I was put through. Or part of the Slayer package. And I didn't have the fear that she did. I wasn't afraid it'd be my last day. It was just part of the deal. And when she was tortured, she didn't have the Slayer package. I did, for the worst of it. I healed. Faster than she did. But some of it? Yeah, I do understand. I understand how thin that line is. I don't know if any Slayer really is perfectly sane, or how easy it is to knock out us out there. But Dana could have been me. Not because I was stronger, but that it could have been worse."

Spike hadn't said anything. The expression of his face had changed, minutely, only traces of any emotion that Jade couldn't read him. But she had finished her monologue, taking a breath. Her voice hadn't cracked, hadn't wavered. She had said it all so calmly, as if it had happened to someone else. Spike opened his mouth, then closed it, an indecisive look on his face. Then, finally. "Git." At Jade's surprised, somewhat defensive expression, Spike quickly clarified. "Not you. Your sister. That's not family. Not even bloody close. That… bint, she walked all over you. It was bloody torture, and there's no other word for it. Probably not what psycho Slay—er, Dana has been through, but near enough. Yeah. You knew a bit about what you were talking about. You talked her down. Which was sodding risky."

"I figured," Jade interjected softly. "That if we played the part of her—the one begging not to be heard, the vulnerable small one, she'd either feel sympathy to the persona—to her persona, or take on the one that did it to her."

"So torture us or help us," Spike translated. Jade nodded. "Yeah. I get it." He added unexpectedly. Jade glanced at him. "Not the torture bit, though God knows I've felt my part. Done my part of it on others too," He clarified, lest she felt pity for him.

"How are your hands?" Jade asked after a moment of reflective silence. He shrugged, glancing at them as if it were no big deal, hadn't caused him a mote of worry.

"Fine," He answered casually. "Never was anything wrong with them. Just…"

"In your head," Jade filled in. "What?" She said at his sharp glare. "It's the truth. Nothing wrong with that. You were tortured too. She's the one that did that to you. You saw me when I faced my sister again. I was… terrified. And she wasn't a Slayer. Just a quadriplegic witch. Fear happens to all of us."

"Well, not to me." Spike disagreed indomitably. He pushed up from his chair, and Jade figured that would be it, the end of the discussion. She felt slightly disappointed. It was nice… just sitting there and talking to him, but she supposed she should be getting more sleep before she had to wake to take care of Sophie. She was trying to give herself other options, things to do be doing, surprised when Spike took the few steps towards her, crouching before her instead of leaving through the door. "I wasn't all that… well I'm never kind," He asserted, his eyebrows rising assuredly. "But suppose what I'm trying to say here is… you helped me." He added with a curt nod. "When I wasn't right in my mind. Though I did tell you," He spoke with a sterner tone, but there was nothing intimidating about it. "To leave and not come back."

"I'm not one of the 'Slayerettes'" Jade reminded him with a smile. She had to smile, she couldn't help it. It wasn't the most eloquent or straightforward of apologies—or maybe it was a thank you, Spike did a good job of blurring the lines. She spoke gently, but firmly. "I'm not someone to order around."

"No," Spike agreed. "What are you, then? Rogue Slayer?"

Jade rolled her eyes but didn't take offense at the title. Strangely enough, it wasn't insulting when it came from Spike. She knew he didn't mean it, didn't see her as an outsider, some ostracized lone wolf. He respected her for what she was. At least he did, most of the time. When she wasn't trying to get too close, wasn't trying to make him admit to a weakness he didn't want to claim. He offered her the bottle again, and she accepted it, twirling it in her fingers. "Just a person. Trying to redeem past mistakes." She gave him a wry smile. "But can't that be said for most of us?"

"Sounds familiar, yeah," Spike agreed. He watched her take a drink, smirking at the slight disgruntled expression she couldn't hide after she drank. He pulled the bottle back from her fingers, taking an answering swig.

"I'm your friend," Jade said, with more confidence. She hadn't exactly offered an answer. "That's what I am. That's why I'm here. That's why I came back."

"That right?" Spike sounded amused. He leaned in, then, shifting his weight into his front half, shifting just that much closer to her. She hadn't realised how close he was until then, their heads almost eye-level, with Jade just a bit taller than Spike was from where she was sitting. "Your heart's beating faster, Slayer." He told her, tantalizing. There was the cocky, arrogant Spike that she knew, a smirk toying at his lips. He had lost his control in the basement but he had it now. There was a discernible shift just then. Jade had gone from thinking she'd be getting yelled at, to almost getting an apology, and now she just didn't know.

"It's the alcohol." Jade told him. She could lean back, but she didn't. He was looking up at her, still as stone, only a foot from her. It was harder to focus with his eyes on her.

"Explains your blush. But you've barely had any." Spike sounded mocking, teasing almost, his teeth showing in a smirk.

"Low tolerance."

"Oh, I'm sure, Slayer." Spike scoffed. "You know how hard it is for me to get drunk? Bloody difficult," He took another drink. "Copious amounts, and I'll be sodding sober. You don't know how lucky you are." He offered the bottle, and she took it in her slender fingers.

"Lucky," Jade said, a bit too cynically.

"Yeah, lucky, Slayer. About that, at least. The rest, well. Your life has been a bit of bollocks."

"Thanks," Jade responded sarcastically.

"Could be worse. Could be a bit more bruising. Like that one you have on your forehead," Spike added insolently, his eyes flashing with the tease. Jade gingerly touched her fingers to the smooth skin, still feeling the tender ache. She'd seen it in the mirror, it was a more brilliant blue than the rest of her fading bruises. Whereas on Spike, it was no more than a red.

"You had one too," Jade accused, somewhat enviously.

"Gone now, though," Spike whistled cheerfully. "Doesn't hurt."

"Yeah, well you were… all Klingon-forehead when I did it." The solid cracking of heads, _that_ had been fun. Painful. Yet somehow, she had enjoyed it, enjoyed her sparring with Spike.

"Klingon?" Spike sounded indignant.

"If I'm a Vulcan, you're a Klingon," Jade insisted. "You have strange rituals with blood and go all crazy warrior. It fits."

"Honestly, it's a shame Andrew already booked it out of here to England. You and that berk would be right close."

"Thanks for the help." Jade said wryly. "I'm quite fine with my circle of friends, thank you."

"And that would be that bint of a roommate, your werewolf boss and a four year old mini wicca?"

"And you." She reminded him.

"I don't have many friends, Slayer," Spike warned her, not too severely, but seriously enough.

"You have me."

"And why's that then? Seems to me, haven't done much but introduce you to different ways to die."

"And you've saved my life. And I've saved yours." Jade felt like she was in a debate. Spike's eyes were half-narrowed, contemplative. "And I didn't thank you. For saving my life. From the…spirit tear thing." She touched her tongue to the top of her teeth. "I realise… it might have made you uncomfortable. But you did it anyway. To save me. I appreciate that." Spike's eyes circled up towards her, his brow furrowing.

"You think it made me uncomfortable?" Spike asked, arching one of his eyebrows.

"Well, of course. I mean, it's not like… you normally wouldn't have, but. You had to, and…"

"It didn't make me uncomfortable, Slayer." Spike scoffed casually. "Just a snog. Like you with that Clarity demon. Doesn't really effect the virtue, none, don't worry your head about that."

"Right. Yeah. Well I appreciate it. And that's what we do, we save each other's life." Jade cursed her ineloquence. And that damn blush of hers. She hated having the pale skin that could very well have belonged to a vampire, but all the blood flow that shunted her emotions to the surface, so readable, so obvious. But Spike was looking at her, a pondering in his blue eyes. He shifted again, this time their heads were level.

"Doesn't have to be all we do." Spike spoke with a light frown, his gaze flickering from Jade's eyes to her lips. She held in her breath as his mouth hovered, near hers.

"No?" Jade's word came out in a rush, and she wished she could gulp it back. She sounded like an inexperienced teenager, but the blood was rushing to her head, and as Spike could indubitably hear, her heart was beating rapidly. He placed the bottle on the floor without looking away from her. He was slow, contemplative, his hand reaching out, actually gently, to brush a couple of strands of her hair up and over her ear. His skin was cool to the touch, where she was abnormally warm. He smirked a bit, the sharp edge of his teeth visible.

"No." He said smugly, tilting his face towards hers.

There was a knocking at the door, and their heads swivelled in unison. Spike rolled his eyes with exasperation, rising first, muttering to himself as Jade let out a light sigh, watching the white-haired vampire saunter over to the door. It opened to reveal Giles, looking extremely worried.

"Ah, Jade, Spike. There you are," Giles said to the both them, somber.

"Is it Dana?" Jade stood immediately, trailing behind Spike, who was less patient than Jade was.

"What is it, Rupert?" Spike demanded irately. His body was tense, fingers curled around the door.

"No, it's not Dana." Giles scratched anxiously at his temple. "It's Buffy." He admitted, turning his gaze towards Spike. "Willow and Kennedy just returned. The mission was a failure. The girdle of Hippolyta was lost to us. And…"

"Spit it out, Watcher."

"Buffy and the rest of the Slayers were captured. She's gone."


	47. Chapter 46

**46**

"You need to give her her space." Kennedy demanded, her voice cold, a hand held out in front of her to keep the zealous Vampire away. Spike growled in answer, narrowing his eyes. He paced, then swivelled, a curt, furious circle.

"She can have a kip later," Spike snapped back. "Now's not the bloody time—"

"She's exhausted. You need to back off." Kennedy retorted, just as adamant. More so, as she stood over the body of her half-conscious girlfriend. Despite a few scratches, the red-headed witch was bloody fine, although an arm was slung into a makeshift bandage. It had been broken. Willow's eyes were all but rolled back in her head, her lips open.

"She needs to teleport me there." Spike demanded, not for the first time.

"No she doesn't." Kennedy interjected, her brown eyes, basically black, glared back at Spike. She had crossed her arms back protectively in front of her chest. She had a couple of scratches on her face, but with her Slayer healing, they were basically nonexistent. She was bloody fine. She was _fine_ , the annoying, bossy girlfriend of Willow. She was standing there and she was bloody fine, but Buffy wasn't. Buffy wasn't there. Kennedy jerked her dark gaze over to the other occupants of the room, Jade and Rupert, who were standing more quietly. Jade's gaze had barely left Spike since they had entered the room, and he could tell that she was prepared to drag him out of there if need be. Well, bugger that. There had to be something they could do, anything. Willow needed to wake up.

"Spike, it is very unlikely that they haven't moved on." Giles spoke in a curt, sighing tone. He rubbed his forehead.

"We don't know that," Spike growled back. "We don't bloody know anything. Except that the belt of bloody bugger it is gone. That now they have everything they need to make their sodding army of Slayer-vampires. Including Buffy." Buffy. His mouth dried at the thought. Buffy was taken. He should have been there. He had asked to be there, but no, she wouldn't take help, not from anybody. Punishing him, that's what she had been doing. Spending too much time with Jade, trying so desperately to help her, and Buffy had ordered him to stay. He should have persuaded her somehow. That was the whole reason he was there. To assist her on her missions, to make sure it bloody well got done.

"We do, in fact know more now." Rupert disagreed with him, trailing his eyes to Kennedy and Willow. Kennedy nodded curtly, gripping Willow's uninjured hand. "We know who's behind this… army, now."

"And who are they, again?" Jade spoke up. She was quiet enough, so much she was almost upholstery, that Giles hadn't objected to her being there. Supposed there were other things to worry about rather than who knew what. And he answered her now, with that annoying, over-wordy answer he had. They didn't have time for this. They had to stop it. Spike paced again.

"Their names are Mandy and Derek." Giles said, first with a glance at Kennedy, who nodded confirmation. "Mandy was one of the Slayers stationed in Europe with Andrew and I. She became quite close with a witch of the coven, Derek. They were in a mission about a year ago. It went poorly. We lost, uh, quite a few Slayers in an explosion. Couldn't find all the bodies. Well, it turns out that Derek and Mandy lived. Er, in a manner of speaking."

"The mission involved vampires," Kennedy continued hollowly, glancing at Jade. "Somehow, they were turned."

"She's a Slayer-vampire." Jade nodded. "And he's a vampire-witch?"

"Yes, uh. Magic itself is not, uh, limited to humans. After his turning, it is expected that he would have the same level of control over magic as he had before. Perhaps more. He was quite skilled for his age."

"This isn't the time for a bloody refresher," Spike snapped. Jade glanced at him, keeping her face impassive as she pursed her lips but didn't say anything.

"Well, there isn't much else we can do at the moment. Discussion is the most viable—" Rupert spoke up, irritation seeping into his tone.

"Red can send me there and I'll sniff them out."

"She isn't doing anything," Kennedy snapped.

"We need to _find_ bloody Romeo and Juliet before they turn Buff—all your precious Slayerettes into the big bad dead." Spike retorted vehemently.

"She used too much magic." Kennedy over-enunciated each word, her eyes flashing. Spike wanted to pummel her into the ground. Was her fault. Their fault. He should have been there. Or Buffy should have gotten out. Not bloody Kennedy. "She needs time and energy to get it back."

"We don't have time!" Spike shouted.

Willow muttered something from her bed. Spike's head turned sharply towards her, just barely discerning her murmured words.

"Did she say something?" Giles asked. Spike shot him a glare before answering.

"She said. Cursed."

"That's right." Kennedy shook her head. "As I was trying to tell you either. Willow had to do a lot of magic. To protect us. To teleport us—"

"Not all of you." Spike interrupted out of spite.

"Shut up, Spike." Giles snapped uncharacteristically. "Willow did what she can. Now bloody let Kennedy speak. You were telling us this before. You weren't able to retrieve the girdle, but…"

"Right. Because they attacked us as soon as we were leaving the no-mojo zone and heading back. Mandy and Derek and their army of vampires."

"But if they didn't have the girdle…" Jade interjected. "How could they have an army already?"

"It's true. Vampires are for the most part, solitary. But they have in cases, followed a 'master', literally and figuratively. The Order of Aurelius, being an example." He looked at Spike, who bared his teeth. Yeah, he remembered those days.

"As I was saying," Kennedy inserted imperiously, "They caught us by surprise. Mandy she had some sort of anti-magic spell on her. Nothing affected her. She went straight for Willow. I pushed her out of the way, but barely. Mandy killed Poppy instead. Her first mission." Kennedy's eyes flickered, but then she had pushed her remorse from her eyes, business again. "And then Mandy got the girdle instead. Buffy ordered Willow to teleport herself out. Knew that Mandy would go after her first." Kennedy stroked Willow's hand with her thumb, looking affectionately at the exhausted witch. "She tried. But she couldn't take all of us."

"She just saved the six of you," Rupert nodded, gently.

"Yeah. Those closest. And it was a quick teleport, so we didn't even come out in the same place. Had to walk for miles to find everyone. When I found Willow, she was a little better than she was now. Before she had teleported us away, she had placed a curse on the girdle. It was what made it harder on her, or something, different kinds of magic at the same time."

"And the curse, what did it entail?" Rupert asked.

"I don't know the details. Not my thing." Kennedy shrugged. "But she said it would keep them from using it."

Rupert looked visibly relieved. Spike paced. Didn't mean anything. Buffy was still gone. So maybe she wasn't dead yet, but how long? If Willow would just wake up.

"For now," Willow croaked, and Spike's head snapped back to her. "I can't enforce it without having it with me. They… they have a witch. He was powerful. He's probably working at it." Willow blinked tiredly at them. "He'll undo it eventually."

"Have something to drink," Kennedy murmured, grabbing the glass of water from the bedside and tipping it to her lover's lips, stroking the redhead's hair.

"So we do have time." Rupert scratched his chin, eyes distant, thinking.

"Yeah, not bloody much," Spike said, exasperated. He couldn't stand around here, and wait. He couldn't. They had to do something.

"Gotta find them," Willow gasped after Kennedy removed the glass from her lips. "Gotta do a spell. Now that I know it was a witch's spell to keep them hidden."

"You have to sleep." Kennedy argued sternly.

"No, no. I have to help Buffy," Willow protested, her voice weak. Frail. The damn witch was all drained out, used up. It'd come back, but not quickly enough. She needed to be at her full strength _now_.

"The best way to help Buffy is to rest," Giles had come up on Willow's free side. "Use the time we have to regain your strength. In the mean time, we have to gather our resources."

"Mandy and Derek got at least fifty more Slayers from that." Kennedy said. "I mean, didn't get to stick around to see how the battle ended, but. Mandy was fast. So fast. I've never fought anything… even the Turok-Han weren't so bad. And she had a goddamn Witch on her side. And a shit ton of vampires. I don't know how they did without me and Willow…"

"I tried to save everyone," Willow murmured, tears in her eyes. Spike looked away. "We were too spread out. I couldn't get everyone. Buffy."

"Willow," Riles said sternly, but gently, touching his fingers to her shoulder. "You are not to blame. Do you understand?"

Willow nodded, but miserably. Spike watched Jade bite the inside of her cheek, frowning. "Gather up your resources? Like the rest of the Slayers?" Jade questioned. He could see the doubt reflected on her face. He felt it himself. It had been a sizeable force, a dependable group that Buffy had taken with her, the best in the east region of the States. They were running out of other Slayers to use that weren't young. Just throwing them at their captors. Spike growled with frustration. He wanted to be thrown. Just somewhere, anywhere that would help Buffy and bring her back.

"No," Rupert spoke. "If we continue using Slayers, I believe it will only lessen our chances. Once Willow regains her strength, she will attempt to find them. If she is successful, we'll have to use a smaller team of allies to retrieve the girdle before it can be used."

"Nice strategy, Rupert. Who you planning on using for this team?" Spike spoke haughtily. Rupert Giles, fancied himself the big strategizer, but he was wallowing without Buffy. She was the one who ran everything. The big plans with the big odds.

"You," Rupert said immediately. "And our non-Slayers."

"They have to have stronger than normal humans." Kennedy interjected. "Mandy, she could… she could rip someone in two. If we send in humans…or witches." She glanced at Willow. "They'll die first."

"No, I _have_ to go." Willow argued. "I have to be there. To save Buffy. Giles…" She looked up at the Watcher. The ponce didn't know anything, didn't have any answers. Anyone could see that. Spike could see that. Easily.

"Those that go out aren't likely to go back, Red," Spike spoke before Rupert did. He saw Jade turned her head sharply in his direction, a light frown to her features. "You've got to stay back here."

"Yes," Rupert agreed. "In the event that who we send are not successful… well, a defense will be needed."

"But…" Willow's dissent was drowned in a half-sob.

"Don't worry about this now," Rupert said softly. "We need to plan." He looked at the Spike then, who nodded. Get ready. Gather their allies. Save Buffy. That was all that mattered. Get her before she was turned, because once she was… Spike knew with complete certainty that he wouldn't be able to kill Buffy. Even if it meant the end of the world. He'd stake himself before he let someone kill her, turned Slayer-Vampire or not. He was in love with her. Had been for some time now. And despite distractions—he glanced quickly to Jade, there was no denying it. It would be Buffy first. And he had almost forgotten that for a moment, had almost kissed Jade there, forgotten the allure of green eyes and blonde hair, been so happy to drop all that was Buffy for just a moment. And then the truth came crashing back. Buffy consumed him. There was nothing else. And if she died, he would too.

This bloody waiting. Over a hundred and fifty years of existence, and he had no patience. Spike paced his room for what seemed to be the hundredth time. It probably was. Giles had sent word out to their allies. Angel and Faith were coming back, they'd be in San Francisco in a couple hours. Not soon enough. Not near quick enough. And Willow was still recovering, drained from her ordeal. Couldn't even do the bloody locator spell first. If it worked this time. Hadn't worked before, with the other Slayers. Like they were on a blank spot. Bloody brilliant. And Willow couldn't even tell if the curse on the girdle was still holding up. She could tell it was weakening. Didn't know much time was remaining. And they had to bloody wait. He needed a direction. Anything. He'd tear up ground until he found it. God, it was like when Jade had been on her deathbed. Nothing to do but wait and hope. But this wouldn't be solved by a magic kiss. He'd tried to visit Willow again, but Kennedy had thrown him out. No visitors.

Spike traced his hand along the wall, where he had already broken pieces off it once. He could break this whole room apart. Had made a good start. But it wouldn't bring Buffy back.

There was a knock. He could tell from the scent, that light vanilla aroma she favored. He didn't want to see her. Her eyes were too penetrating, could pierce through him like glass. And he didn't want to be comforted. He wanted answers.

"Go away," He ordered. There was a pause, then a shudder as the door was forced open, and there was Jade, standing in his doorway.

"Not a vampire," She reminded him. "I don't need an invite."

"Not the best of moods right now," Spike griped, glaring at her as she approached. Jade nodded. She did the silent so well, yet managed to look at him like a hurt puppy. Barbs and gibes were what he did. Angry comments. He hated the thought that she didn't deserve them, like he couldn't insult her like everyone else without feeling bad. "And I don't need a 'it's going to be alright' talk. Nothing's alright. Not while Buffy—" his voice raised to an angry shout, and he cut himself off sharply, turning away from the Slayer.

"Spike," She started, her voice quiet.

"What? Unless you're here to tell me Red is raring to go, then I don't want bloody company, do I? I want smokes and booze and peace and bloody quiet. And then when there's something to punch, I'll be happy."

"I'm going with you." She stated.

"Sorry, luv." He popped the word off his tongue, turning languidly back towards her. He reached for one of the bottles he had snagged, this one less than half empty already from since he had shut himself in his room. "This is a no-Slayer deal."

"One won't make a difference. Or it could. But you, Angel, Illyria, and whoever they might be able to round up, every person counts. And like you, I like a good battle."

"It's a bloody suicide mission, is what it is. Don't fool yourself, Bloody Mary. If we go, it's to destroy that girdle. And then fight extremely pissed off Slayer-Vampires and her herd. That is, if we get there before they turn Bu—the Slayers."

"I'm helping you save Buffy. We're going to save her. Together."

Spike chuckled wryly and shook his head, downing the remainder of the bottle without missing a beat. Good thing he didn't need air. "Is that so? Bloody wonderful. Here I was thinking there wasn't much of a chance, but if you say so, then…"

"Spike," Jade said with a frown. "I mean it. I'll do everything I can."

"And why the bloody hell is that?" Spike gestured widely with his arms. "She doesn't even like you, Slayer. Doesn't like most people. Bloody stuck up. The lass is a ponce if there ever was one. And why do you give a damn?"

"Because you do."

Spike scoffed. "Look. That's all touching and everything, but—"

"Come on, Spike. Don't try the asshole routine with me, it's not going to change my mind."

"The 'asshole' routine, as you call it, is my whole shtick, Slayer." Jade stood firm. That damn, obstinate stubbornness. All it did was remind him of Buffy. How pigheaded she could be. And yeah, he'd do anything to save her, but if anything, he knew it was more likely he'd just be turned to dust. He'd save her, he'd try anything, but the longer he had to wait here, the more likely he'd just have to watch her die. Again. And this big plan of Giles, it was a desperate one. It was likely just sending them into die. If a bunch of trained Slayers didn't have a chance, how could they, these leftovers that were being grouped together. And he didn't want Jade to be one of the misfits, even if that was where she belonged. He didn't know why, but he couldn't just see her thrown in to die. Didn't want to think about that when Buffy had him all twisted up.

"I'm going to help you. Because you care about this. Accept it. We'll save Buffy. Everyone else. Or we'll die trying. And that's okay. But I'm not one of these Slayers. I'm like you. So don't leave me behind. Please."

She had sounded sure and stubborn, until the last word, pleading slipping through. Spike glanced up at her, still hovering in the middle of his room. She was serious, somber. Determined. "You damn Slayers and your martyrdom." He sneered. "Wanting to die."

"I don't want to die." Jade stated. "I did, once. Maybe more than once. But I don't want to now. And we won't. But I need to fight at your side, because that's where I belong. In the battle, with you. And I'm not going to wait to die if they mass up their army like they plan to do, because I've done the waiting to die and I'm over it. If it's a suicide mission, like you say, I'm with the front lines. Together."

Spike arched an eyebrow. Oh, bollocks. It had gotten so complicated. She was just a rogue Slayer, now she was his fighting buddy. A friend, even. Spike had lived so long and had so little friends over that time he hardly knew what to do with one. But she was like him. He knew that by now. She wanted to go, like he had wanted to. Buffy had said no to him, but he wasn't Buffy. Slowly, deliberately, he nodded. "Together, then. To the bloody end."

"To the bloody end." Jade agreed.


	48. Chapter 47

**47**

"How many did he say he was bringing with him?" Jade was asking Giles as they stood in the meeting room, sitting, waiting. Kennedy was there, rubbing her forehead in the back corner, but she had insisted Willow stay in bed for more rest. The sun had just risen, and Angel was expected to be at the hotel any minute. Jade felt odd, being in the meeting room while it was so empty, with just Giles, Spike, Vi and Kennedy there other than her. The rest of the 'generals' she had met before, Giles had advised them to stay in their bases with the Slayers under their care, start fortifications there while they all waited anxious news of Buffy. It was trying for all of them. Jade was probably one of the most level headed. She knew Buffy was important, there was no doubting that, but it wasn't personal for her. It was only personal as far as Spike was concerned. And he was definitely the poster-boy for lack of discipline. He just wanted the fight, remarkably close to explosive. He was never that level-headed in things regarding Buffy, and this was no exception. Spike loved her, was all twisted up inside because she was missing. And Jade couldn't feel envy, not now. It wasn't the time to bemoan the fact that Spike didn't love her, wasn't time to curse the thought of the blonde Slayer. It was time to help get her back, and Jade meant her promise to Spike. Anything she could do, she'd bring Buffy back to Spike. Not to gain his approval—she wouldn't sink to those pathetic levels. But because it was what Spike wanted, what he needed. And that mattered to her. But they needed to do something, and quick, before Spike sunk any deeper into the recesses of his mind, where he suffered in torment mostly self-inflicted.

"He didn't," Kennedy answered in a light groan, rolling her eyes. She was more put together than the rest of them, excluding Jade. Since her lover was safe, recuperating, Kennedy was all business, the acting-Buffy general. She was singularly focused if it didn't involve Willow. No-one was getting close to her girlfriend until she said so, but in the matters of the planning, she was cool and collected, fitting herself easily into the niche of the leader. Jade couldn't blame her for her ambition. At least someone was willing to take charge, to keep everything together until they had a solid game plan. Vi, the more gentle and responsive trainer of the newer Slayers, hadn't done much but chew her lip and stare blankly at the table, mentioning every once in a while that 'This is bad'. Her confidence seemed shaken, but Kennedy seemed undeterred and unsurprised by the redhead's faltering, as if she was used to it. Vi was a worrier, Kennedy was the leader, Spike was the fighter, both of people and ideas, ready to snap at anyone if they presented an idea he didn't like. And Giles, Giles was the reflective one. He tugged at the teabag in his tea, had done so for quite a while, his tea probably overly potent by now, and starting to cool, but he continued to tug absentmindedly on the teabag and flip through the pages of another book, as if it would reveal to him where his Slayer was.

"Do you think that—" Vi started, tugging nervously at her hair. "Well, he has Faith with him, what if they were attacked on the way here since they're trying to get lone Slayers still—"

"Angel called half an hour ago," Kennedy interrupted in a blasé tone, glaring at the muttering Slayer. "They're on their way. Stop imagining bad situations; we have enough already, Vi."

"I know that, it's just. This is a lot, you know? So much is happening. I don't know what we're going to do." Vi continued to ramble anxiously. Giles looked up from his book, giving her a wan, attempt to be comforting smile from over the top of his glasses.

"Everything we can," The older man assured her. "Everything that is to be done." He glanced surreptitiously at Spike, which Jade noticed, but the vampire did. His black-painted fingernails tapped repeatedly and impatiently on the hard wood table. He had seemed to accept Jade's offer for now, that she would help him with Buffy, but there weren't many steps forward in that direction yet. Help her, by how? Sitting and waiting for the backup squad to arrive. She wanted to be doing something, much as Spike did. She didn't want to think about the couple of minutes before Giles had interrupted them. Would Spike have kissed her again? She didn't know. She was pretty sure, mostly sure, and then uncertain again. He hadn't mentioned it, as the first one, it was all Buffy again. But even if it was, Spike was a charmer when he wanted to be, or even when he didn't. He might not have meant anything by it, not the way it would have meant to Jade. But all she could do was think about it and not know for certain because they had bigger crises to worry about. Like normal.

Spike moved first, his gaze shifting towards the door, and Jade followed his eyes. His expression betrayed nothing, lips closed in a flat line and the sleek lines of his cheekbones prominent. She tore her eyes away from his face to look upon who entered the room.

He strode into the room with a great deal of dynamism, the door swinging behind him as he was followed by more forms, some Jade knew, some she didn't. But he was first, tall and imposing, in full black as Spike was, although his regalia was dress pants and a dress shirt, with a long flowing jacket. Again more Spike comparison. She could tell, Slayer senses or just guessing, that he was a vampire. Not just a vampire, but the other vampire, the only other vampire with a Soul, the one that had been talked about, just barely by Spike, and by Gunn, and Gwen, who stood behind him. So this was Angel. For the most part, he was ordinary. Jade wasn't sure what she had expected. He was stocky, with hair so dark it was nearly black, sticking up from his scalp. He was broad shouldered, with a firm jaw, just a bit of stubble on his pale skin, and dark, very dark eyes that stood out, even more than Kennedy's did, with her own imposing gaze, his was piercing. He slid his hands back in his pockets, and he looked first to Giles, giving him a nod.

"Rupert," Angel greeted.

"Angel." Giles said with a bit of a relief. "You've arrived."

"'Course we did. Just had a few pitstops first, you know? Gathering up the Super squad for the end fight." A voice sounded, smug and powerful, and another woman, this one Jade didn't recognize, coming from behind Angel as she stepped easily into the room. She had a flair to her, dark brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She had large eyes, dark eyeliner and pronounced lips that were covered with a darker lipstick. "Hey Vi. How you doing?" She said a bit less loudly to the red-headed Slayer, who stood up and smiled thankfully at the brown-haired woman.

"Better now that you're here." Vi admitted. "It's nice to see you, Faith."

"Well, not the best of circumstances, am I right? But we're here. With our boys. That said," Faith glanced over her shoulder, where Illyria stood. "Go out there with the rest of them, blue ranger. The adults have to talk." Faith cocked her head at Illyria, who narrowed her eyes. Still not one to budge to authority, and Faith oozed it. Jade didn't know who she was, just barest mentions of her name, but she could see now from her strength and the way she held herself that she was another Slayer. She was older than most, probably the same age as Buffy, and she didn't seem angry or even worried, just demanding. Kennedy was rolling her eyes in the back corner, obviously not as pleased with the new authority figure showing herself.

"Stand outside?" Illyria announced indignantly. Angel had been sweeping towards the table, but then he stopped, glancing at Illyria.

"Keep an eye on them," Angel said without missing a beat. Illyria muttered something, then turned and exited out the way she came, the doors closing behind her. Gwen and Gunn looked at each other, smirking and shaking their heads as they too came to sit at the table.

"I thought you guys were bringing allies?" Vi said, taking her eyes away from Faith. "It sounds like they need a attendant."

"They do. They're not to be trusted," Angel stated easily, sitting down in his chair.

"All that matters is that they can take a punch and not be broken down into pieces." Faith continued, glancing at her dark haired vampire companion, and then more smugly to the rest of the group. "Hey, you asked for non-Slayers. We delivered. You didn't say you wanted Goody-goody type Samaritans too."

"So I assume some of these are more the mercenary type?" Giles asked, a bit tiredly.

"Not all of them," Gunn stated, in his information-giving tone. "Most of them, yeah. Money's important. But the possibility of dying, not so much. We have two demons, one from Treshok, and a lizard demon, they were from a demon-trafficking ring with Angel back in the day. They'll fight. There's Groosalugg. He's a good guy."

"Pretty to look at, too," Gwen chimed in. "Pylean. The non-green type. Your Andrew, he promised a couple of Wainakay demons too. Oh, and Spike suggested Fyarl demons. Got a couple of those."

"Can we get on with it?" Spike interrupted. "Seems like a worse plan by the minute. Having big, stupid demons only bloody matters if the fight depended on manpower. Which we have less of. It doesn't matter how many we have. But we need to get on with it. Need a location." He looked pointedly at Kennedy.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Spike?" Faith asked flippantly. "Don't see you bringing anyone to the mix. Just bad attitude."

"Enough." Angel said, seriously. He glanced to Faith, who rolled her eyes and quieted. Angel looked next to Giles. "Willow still hasn't done the location spell yet?"

"No, she uh, needs more time to recover. It's a waiting game we're playing, I'm afraid." Giles answered with a grimace.

"Well we're here," Angel had a softer way of speaking, gentle almost as he reassured the watcher. "You know we'll do anything for Buffy."

"And I bet your flunkies are patient as saints," Spike drawled.

"Shut up, Spike." Kennedy snapped.

"If Angel did his bloody part, you need to, too!" Spike snapped back. "Get in there with Willow and tell her we need that spell."

"She's not ready yet," Kennedy stated unflinchingly.

"Well, we can't do anything until we know where we're going," Angel said, clearing his throat as his penetrating eyes glanced between Spike and Kennedy. "But sooner, rather than later?"

"We can only hope," Giles muttered.

Kennedy flashed the watcher a look as well, then muttered. "You can discuss, then. If we're all here, I'll be with Willow." The Slayer walked flippantly over to the door, where Spike commented after her.

"Where you should be," Spike retorted. Kennedy snapped her head back over her shoulder to glare at him, stopping and taking a step in his direction. Spike shrugged languidly, taunting her with his eyes. He wanted a fight. He was tense, and waiting, needing something to distract him from thinking about Buffy. He didn't care much about anything right now, and Jade knew that. Provoking Kennedy was the least of his worries, and he'd get a thrill from pissing her off. But that didn't help, and as Kennedy took a step towards the vampire, Jade pulled herself from the wall and made an answering step to put herself between between Kennedy and Spike, not saying anything, but answering Kennedy's glower with her own. Kennedy scowled, rolling her eyes as Jade's defensive step. And Jade knew better than to look at Spike, whose gaze was probably burning a hole in her back. He didn't want anyone fighting his battles for him, she knew that. Didn't want her interfering when his head wasn't clear. He wanted his rush of adrenaline, his distraction, and Jade would give it to him in sparring, not but not here. But it wasn't time for a fight, and they needed to realise that. Glares snapped through the room like electricity, dark eyes boring into her, but Kennedy dropped it first, shrugging it off.

"Not worth my time," Kennedy muttered, then stepped out into the hall. Was a tame response, more so than what Jade expected from Kennedy, but she figured Kennedy was more worried about Willow than about Spike right now. Jade glanced down at Spike, who as she expected, glared up at her. Didn't like her meddling, didn't want the fight yanked from under him. He stood then, glancing down at the table where Giles and Angel sat.

"As fond as I am of wasting my time, I'd rather do it on my own, thanks. Call me when Red finds her mojo." He stood before Jade, towering over her. His lip twitched, as if he was about to say something, then just shook his head and stepped past her, his shoulder brushing Jade's, not gently. The vampire left the room silently and quickly, and Giles sighed, taking off his glasses and massaging his nose, his tea still untouched.

"What's eating him?" Faith remarked, and then glanced towards Jade, as if seeing her for the first time. "And who the hell are you?"

"Jade." Jade answered, short and concise. Faith wasn't overly intimidating. There was no aggression in her tone, more brusque impertinence than anything else. Jade saw Angel look up at her, curiosity in his dark gaze, almost an amused look on his face.

"Friend of Spike's?" Angel asked, his tone level, carefully inquisitive.

"Yes," Giles answered for Jade, a sigh embedded in his tone. "She has assisted us for a couple missions."

"Speaking of that, I should check on Dana." Jade said casually, Faith still looking at her, her dark red lips twisted into a smug smile.

"Friend of Spike's, huh?" Faith commented complacently, while Angel looked towards Giles, a mix of curiosity and alarm on his face.

"Dana?" Angel asked, directing his question to Giles, who nodded and sighed. "The, uh, troubled Slayer you guys took from us?"

"Hey, you were working for Wolfram & Hart," Vi reminded him, not too sternly, glancing away when his dark eyes looked to her. "I'm just saying. We couldn't take any chances," The red-headed Slayer added, slightly mollified.

"That is the one. She escaped, but Jade talked her down, some. She's under guard in one of our rooms."

"In chains, I hope," Faith commented. "Don't need her running around right now."

"Under guard," Giles repeated.

"No restraints," Jade said, a little quieter than she intended, as Faith's eyes snapped back to her, Angel's following a bit more leisurely. "Giving it a chance right now."

"Whatever." Faith shrugged. "Not my problem. Sure you know what you're doing." She looked from Jade to Giles, the latter nodding.

"It's hard to tell these days," The watcher confessed. "There are many things to be considered, currently."

"We're going to find her, Giles." Angel promised, a soft hint of vulnerability passing through his eyes, knowing what was first and foremost on the older looking man's mind. "Going to bring her home."

"How is she doing?" Jade asked the less nervous looking Slayer, who was large despite her age, big and buoyant, dark eyes that flashed back at Jade.

"Hasn't tried to break through the wall and kill us all, so good, I guess?" The dark-eyed girl answered curtly. Her name was Tangerine, apparently, though she had instructed Jade to call her Tan as soon as she had left Dana in her care. She was taller than Jade, despite being barely seventeen. Her snide remarks didn't bother Jade, Tan seemed more sure than her Slayer companion, and Jade wanted someone who wouldn't get knocked off guard by Dana if Dana decided to go for a walk. And hopefully that didn't happen. There was enough on everybody's minds right now, Jade knew she was pushing Giles just asking that Dana remain un-sedated for the time being.

"Great. I'm going in." Jade informed her, out of courtesy. She wasn't going to ask permission, although she hadn't exactly been handed a great deal of responsibility, no-one had reacted too much, one way or another, to her being there. With the power vacuum from Buffy and most of the senior Slayers being absent, a steady gap between the young and the experienced, Jade had slipped in. She was worried they only tolerated her because Spike did, but Giles had treated her, for the most part, with respect, and that was all she wanted. Even Kennedy, who had once slammed Jade's head into the wall, was acting more receptive, probably due to Sophie taking a liking to Jade. Still, it wasn't firm ground by any standings, and it wouldn't improve if Dana started going on a rampage. So Jade'd check on her, because she didn't know what would happen after they went on their mad rescue mission. If they would die, fail, live, so she took the time now.

"Great." Tan answered in uninterested monotone. "Try to make sound if you're getting impaled, we might be able to help. Or just barricade the door and run."

"Good." Jade smiled, more impressed than affronted. Despite probably trying to be insulting, it was more refreshing than anything else. After a brief knock, she opened the door and stepped in. It was mostly barren, the room. Nothing for Dana to hurt herself or someone else with. Just a bed, not even a TV. But she was sitting on the bed, scrabbling furiously at parchment that Jade had left her earlier. Dana looked suspiciously at Jade as she entered.

"No sleep," Dana exclaimed, throwing down the crayon, and her papers with it. She sat up abruptly, as Jade approached her, eyeing the smaller Slayer as Jade sat on the edge of Dana's bed.

"No. Not here to put you to sleep," Jade promised. She reached out with her hand, as she had before. Dana frowned at her, thinking it over, as Dana did whenever she was confronted by something that reminded her of being a young girl, off-put by the gentleness of Jade. Reminded her of happier times perhaps. She accepted Jade's hand, pulling it into her own.

"Why? You take me away again? Take mommy, take…"

"No. Not here for that. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Locked away, again." Dana mumbled.

"For now. Not forever. I'll—well, someone will start slow with you. Give you another chance."

Dana slipped her hands out from Jade's, looking at her accusingly. "Let me go?"

"No. Not giving up on you." Jade assured her, resting her hand in her lap. Dana shuddered and leaned back, balling her hands into fists.

"Chosen. Need to hunt, need to kill."

"Need to heal," Jade stated instead. Dana rolled a shoulder in a disagreeing shrug, running her fingers through her hair. They were caught on a snag, and Dana pulled violently at it. Jade reached for her instead, stopping the ungentle yanks, working her fingers through it instead. "Gentle, please." Jade asked her, and Dana stopped her movements, watching Jade with wide eyes.

"Why are you here?" Dana demanded. "To help? To push—to think the thoughts away?"

"I just wanted to see you. Before…" Jade touched her tongue to the inside of her cheek. Dana's hands clamped down on her own, but Jade didn't tense, didn't move.

"Big fight. Big battle." Dana stated, looking at her. "Should take me."

Jade shook her head. "No. There's no battle." Dana's grip increased.

"No lie," Dana protested. "We don't lie."

"Okay." Jade agreed. "We don't lie." Dana released Jade's wrists, the skin red from the Slayer gripping them. She took Jade's hands instead, comparing their off-kilter fingers as they had done before.

"Same," Dana murmured. Jade gave her a soft, sad smile. No, they weren't, not exactly. Dana was worse, far worse, and Jade wouldn't forget that. But some things, they were the same. Pain, suffering, for them both. "Take me with you when you go. You need protection. I'm strong."

"Yes, you are." Jade smiled a little. "So am I. Chosen."

"Missing a piece," Dana disagreed again, in a mumble. Jade looked at her, unsure of how to answer it. Wasn't exactly possible to answer all of her ramblings. She didn't even know if Dana was talking about her or Jade. "You're saying goodbye." Dana whispered. "Shouldn't do that. Where-ever you go, should take me with you." So she was hardly subtle, then. It was true. Depending on Willow, on everything, she didn't know how long until they could go on the mission, and what happened after. There was little Jade could do or say to Dana to convince her she was coming back. Dana was on the precipice, dangerously precarious. But they all were. Spike was too, twisted up by Buffy's disappearance. He would gladly give himself up for even a chance to save the blonde Slayer, and Jade would give herself up for him. She didn't know when it had gotten to that point, but she knew it adamantly. If Spike didn't come back from the mission, Jade didn't think she would either. And she had said she would do anything for him, to help him get back Buffy. She meant it. And she didn't know how to explain that to Dana, and words and explanations and excuses didn't seem good enough. Wouldn't mean enough.

She had wanted to sleep right away, but something was bothering her, at the back of her mind. Something Dana said, about pieces, reminded her about something else. Something someone had said to her, and it took her an hour of sitting in a chair and sketching in her artbook next to where Sophie was sleeping for her to realise. It had been the demon, Clarity. She had said something like that, and that wasn't all she had said. She had offered her help to Jade, for a promise to return. Had whispered words to her, words that would help. She had forgotten, how could she possibly have forgotten that? It had been magic, or something, or she had been so tired, she had forgotten. But now she thought of black eyes with silver irises, the splash of purple, the mesmerizing allure. As if she was possessed—and that was a comparison that scared her a bit more after knowing what it was like to be _actually_ possessed, Jade continued to scrawl furiously at her paper as she thought, thought of Clarity and tried to recall all the demon had said to her. Tried to recall the essence and the pieces, and the words she whispered to her. She found she couldn't remember the words, but thinking about them made something else unlock, and as she massaged her forehead furiously, beginning to tire and lose certitude that she was onto something, she glanced down at her paper. She hadn't even realised what she had been doing, but there it was. A picture of an object, and instructions written down in her hasty scrawl. So much information, more than Clarity had whispered to her, and had deposited itself on her paper, almost looking like the page of a book. If Clarity meant what she said, this would help them. Help them with Buffy and the Slayers. Now all that was left was getting the witch to help with it. But Kennedy wasn't going to let her near her, not alone. At least not that night. Still, she just had to wait for her chance, find Willow alone and talk to her.

She woke to a tug on her hand. Jade opened a sleepy eye to see Sophie standing beside her chair, her eyes wide, blue and piercing.

"Had a bad sleep," Sophie murmured, and Jade nodded, hiding back a yawn as she cracked her neck, her body stiff from sleeping in the chair. She had gone to watch Sophie for the night, while Kennedy stayed with Willow. She had left Dana just a couple hours ago, to distract her mind by watching Sophie, to distract it from what was coming, and from Spike. She hadn't seen him, not even when she looked outside to see if he had been having a smoke, though she hadn't gone to his room. Not again, if he wanted space, time to himself while they waited for news of Buffy, she'd give it to him. He couldn't do anything to make it better, and that was the realistic, though disappointing truth. Out of need for some comfort herself, Jade lifted Sophie up off the floor and into her arms, tucking the child under her chin.

"You hate hugs," Sophie reminded her, slight wonder in her voice.

"I know," Jade said, giving Sophie an encouraging smile. "Thought I'd give in, just this once." In answer, Sophie snuggled closer. "What was your dream about?"

"Bad things," Sophie admitted. "Seeing the monsters hurt Kennedy and Willow. Shadow monsters, big ones with teeth—" She had started to gesture when Jade stopped her.

"I told you, Kennedy and Willow are fine," Jade assured her. Sophie nodded reluctantly.

"I want to see them," She pouted, looking up at Jade with big, sad blue eyes. "They haven't visited me yet."

Well, Willow, Jade could understand. She had been admitted into that room to rest—no Sophie allowed, nothing to disrupt the witch's recovery. But Kennedy, Kennedy could have been here if she wanted to. Jade wasn't overly surprised that the dark eyed Slayer wasn't as into Sophie as Willow was, perhaps the fact that she was a reminder of Tara, and from the memories granted to her by Anya, Jade could see the family resemblance, light, soft blonde hair and big eyes. Sophie carried some of the similarities, as well as a soft-spoken personality. Willow had accepted her, immediately, but Kennedy, not as much. Still, it wasn't as fair to Sophie, so Jade tapped on Sophie's nose.

"I can't get you Willow right now, but I can get you Kennedy," Jade said, a plan forming in her head. Sure, maybe she should feel a bit badly about taking advantage of Sophie's want for family, but it was she needed. "Would that help?" Sophie gave her a soft smile, and nodded. "Alright." Jade disentangled herself from Sophie's arms, taking her back to her bedroom, leaving a light on at Sophie's behest. "Couple minutes," Jade promised Sophie and left, hiding the piece of paper under her shirt. Willow's room wasn't too far away, and there was, without a surprise to Jade, Kennedy watching over her as Jade stepped in. Willow was sleeping, Kennedy looking over her, who glanced up sharply when Jade entered the room.

"Let me guess," Kennedy scoffed. "Your vampire sent you to do his dirty work. Well you can't bully her. She's asleep. So get out."

"No, that's not it," Jade said, calmly. She had a reason to be here. She looked back at Kennedy, making sure her expression was one of compassion. "It's Sophie. She had a bad dream. I talked to her, but I think she really wanted you."

"Me? You mean, because Willow isn't there," Kennedy said, a bit bitterly.

"You," Jade said, and she was truthful. "She understands that Willow can't be there right now, but she does want you. Really. I think it would help, if you don't mind." She shrugged a shoulder. Kennedy looked from Jade to Willow, clenching and unclenching her fists. Sure, maybe the native Slayer hadn't bonded as quickly to Sophie as Willow did, but there was something there, at least Jade hoped there was. Finally, Kennedy sighed, glaring.

"Fine. But I swear, if Spike comes here while I'm gone, I'm going to make you one giant bruise. You got it, maggot?" She accentuated the last word, a strange expression crossing her face as the bravado faded. "Just, watch her, okay? I'll be five minutes."

"Yeah. No-one but me." Jade promised. Kennedy looked at her, a long, dark look before muttering to herself and stepping out of the room. Jade took Kennedy's seat by the bed. Willow looked peaceful, for the most part, her cuts healing slowly, pronounced on her skin, her arm in a bandage. Jade was silent for a minute, trying to listen to the departing footsteps, her own heart beating quickly. What she wouldn't give for Spike's hearing right now, but she didn't have it. Just had to be lucky, and quick. She reached out and gently shook Willow, turning on the light on her bedside table.

"Willow," She murmured to the red-headed woman. "Willow, wake up." The witch's eyes opened, groggily, and she looked a bit perplexed up at Jade.

"What is it? Is something wrong? Did they find—" Willow blinked the sleep away, trying to sit up.

"No, not yet. And I'm not here to push you, either," Jade added at Willow's crestfallen and guilty expression. "You're resting. That's exactly what we need you to do. You can't rush that, or it'll be worse."

"Tell that to Spike. And everyone else. Angel. Oh God, if Dawn was here…" Willow blanched. "How can I tell Dawnie that I left her sister?" Jade reached for the stricken Witch's arm, shaking it, not ungently.

"Focus. Your girlfriend's going to come back and kick my ass if she's realised I've woken you. But I have something I need you to do. Not now. Not until you're better." Jade fumbled with the rolled piece of paper, pulling it out from under her shirt. "There's a demon, back in Haven. She told me something, I didn't remember it until now. She said it would help. I drew it. Somehow. It's pretty obscure, but…" She smoothed out the graphite-smudged piece of parchment and handed it to Willow. Willow blinked, frowning as she looked from Jade to the paper, reaching out with her uninjured hand to steady the sketch.

"What's that… that's a… I've never see this before? Can it work?" Willow asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, it's…"

"Yeah. Kind of an odds thing. Not definite."

Willow looked up to Jade. "Then, why… you're not planning on trying this, are you?"

"As a last resort," Jade promised her. "Believe me, I don't want to. But if it can work. It might help. It might be the only thing that can help. I don't know. I know you can't do it right now. But maybe once you…recharge. A backup plan, that's it."

"Do-Do you trust the demon that told you about this?" Willow asked with an arched brow, looking hesitant. "And I mean, my magic hasn't been spot on lately. Might not do it right. I couldn't save everyone, I might not-"

"Willow," Jade interrupted. "If it doesn't work, it's not you. But if it can, you're the greatest witch in the world. Trust me, I've heard it from everyone." Willow gave her a slight, grateful smile, but the witch still looked worried.

"I can try. Try to make it. But this'll mean that you—"

"I know." Jade nodded. "As I said. Last resort. I don't want to have to use it. But if it comes down to it, we can't let there be an army of Slayer-vampires. They'd be unstoppable. This might be the only way to stop it, before it gets there. Trust me, Willow. I don't want to. I don't want it to get to the point that I would need this. But this might be the only thing that works. I said I'd do anything I could to help Spike get Buffy back, and I—I mean it. And not just Buffy. All the Slayers. I don't want to have to use this, but I would. For a chance for them."

Willow didn't speak for a moment, closing the book on her chest. "I hope you don't need to use it," The witch said. "But they trusted me, Buffy trusted me. If this helps, I'll try it. And Spike, well, he trusts you. Pretty big coming from him. Sophie adores you. If you're willing to use it, then I'll see what I can do. Best witch in the world, after all," She said, without boasting. Jade nodded in thanks. "Have—have you told Spike?" Willow asked. Jade looked at her, but the witch's expression was a mix of concern and worry rather than judgement.

"No. Don't tell him, please. Or anyone. They'll say it's a bad idea, because it might not work. But I think it could be the only chance we have. Keep it between us?" Spike _would_ argue. She couldn't have that. She had cold feet about it already, but if she was going to be part of the strike with Spike, she needed it. And she was going. Let the pieces fall where they would.

Willow nodded slowly. "Just you and me." The witch promised.


	49. Chapter 48

**48**

He was out of smokes. He was out of smokes and out of booze and out of distractions. And he bloody well needed one. All he could see was Buffy. Buffy, held with the rest of them, her life threatened as it had been so many times before. He'd lost her once. Went on the longest 147 days of his life, the only ones where he truly felt the length of immortality, each day a throbbing, painful ache, a hole where Buffy used to be. And that was in the earlier thralls of his feelings for her, though he had loved her, stubbornly and involuntarily. Then that had developed, and grew, where he was so consumed by her that she had twisted and overwhelmed every one of his thoughts, being the main and engrossing factor of all of them. Fed on him like a cancer, taking over his brain and eating the hesitant tissue until there was nothing left. He had hated, sometimes, how much he loved her. And then he had truly loved her, after he had regained his soul. Loved her without needing anything in return, who took holding her in his arms as the greatest gift he had ever been given. And then after he had died again, returned, all he had wanted was Buffy. But then he had been afraid, hesitant. His brain returned to him, he didn't think it was so easy to plug himself back into Buffy's heart, have her love him the way he loved her. And he was right. There was little but arguing and conflict, painful, but undeniable passion that inflicted him. He associated loving Buffy with pain and suffering, and he was right to do so, for it had given him little else.

But for good or bad, he loved Buffy. Not the lovesick puppy routine he had had with Dru, but over-encompassing. And damnit, even though she resisted each and every time he tried to pursue an actual relationship with her, he hadn't gotten over her. Not even close. Buffy wasn't the sort of girl to get over. He'd love her no matter how much it hurt, because she took over everything. Took over his brain, made him into a babbling idiot, and now, an angry bomb looking to explode. He needed to do something, needed to make sure that she was safe. He couldn't handle losing her again. He'd be dust first. The thought of bursting into grey particles was not a sodding comforting thought. Been through death so many times and he still bloody wanted to avoid it like it was the plague. Not that he could get the plague.

And yet, the fantasy where he killed himself after Buffy die, he couldn't help but think, one treacherous thought, about how betrayed Jade would feel. She'd feel angry, and hurt. And that wasn't his problem. He was who he was, wasn't going to apologize for that, wouldn't do any good. But she was offering her help with Buffy, and she sodding well didn't have to. He felt a bit better at the thought of having her at his side. She was a terribly proficient fighter if she had the proper motivation. Lacked a bit whenever she didn't want to hurt whoever she was fighting, but when not, she was like a whirlwind. He admired that. And he felt guilt, a guilt in his chest to think that she was willing to go on this last-shot mission. She didn't have much reason to. Definitely didn't get along with Spike's Blondie, that was for sure. She didn't fit in with the Slayerettes—which wasn't a downside to him, they were all haughty and annoying anyway. And maybe she thought she couldn't survive on her own if the Slayer-Vampire army reached its zenith, but regardless, and Spike didn't give much of a damn towards motivations, hell, his was murky as hell most of the time, she wanted to help. Probably through her life away for one good fight. He could understand that. He was the same. But she knew that him, giving up the fight, dying, if Buffy did, she wouldn't understand that. Probably wouldn't forgive it. But that wasn't her choice. It was his.

He couldn't lose Buffy again. So he'd make sure that he didn't. Not just to get the girl. But make sure she could live long and happy, even if she wanted nothing to do with him. The thing about having a soul, he wasn't as selfish as he used to be. Sometimes he didn't feel like he was any better, especially now, sitting alone in the dark and brooding—something that traitorously arranged him with Angel, no doubt, he was just waiting. Waiting for bloody Kennedy to bloody get her bloody act together, let Willow pump out her mojo. The old Spike would have forced it by now, do anything for Buffy, wouldn't so much think on the consequences. It was Buffy so he'd do it. That was all he needed. Now, there was waiting, and concern and god bloody damn he needed to do something already.

So he was sodding thankful when there was a knock on the door, quiet, just a couple of raps. He could tell from the scent that it was Jade, could feel her heart beating, the excitement in her breath, her blood. She knocked, and he was on his feet in a second, pulling the door open so fast that he nearly pulled it off its hinges. There she was, her cheeks tinged a bit red, eyes wide and looking up at him. He wished he wasn't so observant, couldn't notice all the colors that she had on her pasty damn palette. He lived in a world of grey right now, grey and blood, and he wanted the fight to bring him back again, to bring him Buffy.

He had been pissed at Jade when he had left the conference room. Had wanted a fight. Wanted to pummel Kennedy good a few times, and get pummelled back in return. Give him a good distraction. Almost got that bloody woman over to him too, all puffed up and arrogant about her wicca girlfriend, all defensive about Willow, and he had tried to manipulate that. Crack a few bones, get a few bruises, spit out some blood. In the short run, it would have been just what he needed. And Jade had stepped in, stepped in front of him like he needed protecting from Miss Bossy Britches, as if Kennedy gave him a nip of scare. But he didn't need a bloody guard dog and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Jade. Pushing in on his fun, thinking she had a right to ruin his fun, ruin his distraction. So he'd left and drunk himself into a stupor that never lasted, bloody vampire physiology. And here she was again, and he could think of a few biting words, something to start another fight, because that was all he wanted, but he was stilled by the trepidation in her eyes, the excitement tremoring in her small body.

"Willow's ready. She's doing the spell right now. I thought you'd want to know. Kennedy won't let anyone in with her but—" With the words came a wave of relief, an exasperating _finally_ , a jarring in his heart that would no longer beat. Willow could find her, and then they could start this already. End this goddamned purgatory. Spike shoved out into the hall, almost knocking into Jade, despite her hasty retreat. She glanced at him, her elation fading, and he could see the wary look in her eyes, the tenseness in her body, waiting for the harsh words he had been intent on saying, but they didn't matter right now. And he knew that it wasn't her she was mad at. Wasn't fair for Jade to take the hits. That had always been Spike's forte, the kick the Spike game that everyone enjoyed. He wasn't going to do it to Jade. She was there because she gave a damn, and he wasn't going to be an arse.

"Where?" He said instead, and followed the smaller form. Down the hall, up the stairs, and he could see the crowd outside the room, knowing obviously which one that Willow was in. Angel stood outside, with the dark Slayer at his side. She was snapping her lips, hands on her hips, saying something to Angel, and he managed a smirk. Those two had gotten close. After Spike had left the post-Wolfram & Hart team to join the Slayers, there'd been a bit of a switcharoo. Guess Faith didn't fit all well with the other girls, big surprise. So she had kicked it with Angel instead, and fine. Spike didn't care much one way or another, but he knew it had rubbed Buffy the wrong way. Didn't want her man running off with her dark mirror universe counterpart. 'Course, Spike had been there. _He_ hadn't gone off with one of Buffy's not so favorite person, but hadn't mattered at the time. Buffy'd paid a bit more attention to him for a time, but then endless crises, endless planning, organizing. She hadn't wanted to bake her cookie dough, or whatever ridiculous analogy Angel blithered on about. But it didn't matter, baked or not, Angel and Spike were always there when Buffy was in trouble. That hadn't changed, wouldn't change for a while, no matter who they fraternized with. While it was Faith to Angel, Spike couldn't help but think of Jade as his example.

"Hey. You done sulking, or what?" Faith called out as Spike approached. "You sure came quick," She observed. "Was it the messenger?" She was sultry, taunting as she often was, pushing until something kept her from going further. Bloody headstrong, obnoxious and sprinkled with a bit of crazy, that was Faith. Sometimes it was refreshing, other times, Spike'd love to wipe that smirk off her face. Couple of good hits, and Faith was always up for the ballgame, that'd be a fun match. But as it was, any snarky retort he had, Jade spoke first.

"Probably the message," Jade said matter-of-factly. Angel twitched his lips into a smile, though his expression devolved back into seriousness as he tilted his attention back towards the door, no doubt listening intently.

"Hey, not the sulky one here." Spike felt compelled to remind Big-on-the-eyeshadow pouty lips. "That'd be Mister Broody to the right of you."

Faith rolled her eyes to Angel, then smirked back at Spike. "Hard to tell you apart today," She mocked between glistening lips.

"Hey." Angel and Spike protested at the same time, followed by an arbitrary glare at each other, and then silence, as the two vampires tuned their hearing. Faith rolled her eyes, laughing softly to herself. Jade leaned against the wall, her attentive blue eyes shifting between Angel and Spike. It irked him, her glance at Angel, although it was more out of a desire for information than anything else, likely. Couldn't be anything else. At least not Angel. He was a git. A git. Yet both of them listened hungrily and eagerly to the room behind the door. There were hints of Rupert's voice, of Kennedy's, but what he was waiting for was Willow's. And then finally, a sigh of relief from Rupert, hushed voices, and clattering at the door, Kennedy wrenching it open. Her nearly black eyes looked to the four waiting outside.

"She found them," Kennedy informed them all. Two Vampires who didn't breathe untensed their bodies that they had been holding as still as stone. Faith nodded her head curtly, and Jade let out the breath Spike knew she had been holding. "Come in, then." Kennedy added brusquely, and the four continued without complaint. There was Willow, sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by herbs and a circle of white particles, a bead of sweat on her forehead. She looked pasty, and Kennedy knelt back to her side, gripping her hand and tucking red hair behind an ear. Spike looked at Willow a bit less antagonistically now, now that she was clearly still not at her best, but had done it as soon as possible. And he had to realise that. Pushed her to do it any earlier, she might not have done it wrong.

"You had tried finding the missing Slayers before this, right?" Angel commented to Giles, who was hastily examining the map that Willow had marked. "But this time worked?"

"I figured it out," Willow spoke, a little raspy, but her eyes shined a bit brighter. Tired, but the Wicca was glad to have finally done her part. And Spike knew he shouldn't blame her for not being able to teleport Buffy out of there, that he was holding a grudge because he was more mad at himself than anything. But he had nowhere to aim his frustrations except at the waiting the Witch had accrued. "Because of you two, actually," Willow looked to Spike and Jade. He could feel the smaller Slayer tense, and he arched an eyebrow.

"Haven." Willow said, a bit excitedly.

"They're not… they're not at Haven, are they?" Jade sounded alarmed, but Willow was shaking her head.

"Not exactly Haven, but close to Haven. See, Haven is protected, from the outside, so that no-one can really detect them, satellites, or magic. It's really hard. Like wading through molasses. Sticky, cold, gross molasses."

"Point, Red?" Spike said. His impatience hadn't changed much. He saw Angel peering over Giles' shoulder, at where the map had revealed, the two of them sharing a look.

"Well, it's not, you know, easy. I found you the first time, because I knew I was looking for you. A pretty clear image, and I did with with Jade when I couldn't find you. Demon dimension, though, couldn't find either of you. But I was able to focus on Buffy. It's not the same as Haven. Do you know how Haven came to be?" She poised this question at Jade, who nodded slowly.

"Witches, I think? They made it, to make a place to protect demons."

"Right. But there's more than one. Don't know how many, it would be even more of a headache to try to find them all. But I found this one. It's not a town."

"It's an old temple," Giles interjected. "In Europe."

"How the bloody hell are we going to get to Europe?" Spike burst out. Taking a plane? A commercial plane with all their weapons? Hell bloody no. Like he had a passport. And a boat would take too damn long. He glanced at Willow. She'd need to teleport them. Somehow.

"She's not doing it." Kennedy snapped, deciphering Spike's pointed look.

"I have a jet," Angel interjected. The inhabitants of the room swung to look at him.

"Yeah, the one we nicked from W, R and H," Faith added.

"It was brought to San Francisco a couple hours ago. We can use that." Angel assured them. "Willow, how much time until the curse on the girdle wears off?"

Willow looked at him, somber. "Not long."

"Don't have time to waste, then," Spike said. "Get a bounce in your jimmies and let's go."

"Yes, uh. Not much time. We'll gather the weapons. Go through the plan, once." Giles added.

"Don't need a plan." Spike scoffed.

"Yes, we do." Angel glared at him. "Faith, gather up everyone, tell them to meet us in the parking lot. We'll drive out to the landing strip."

"You got it, boss." Faith turned on her heels and left the room.

"Go help them get ready, baby." Willow murmured quietly to Kennedy. "Need some time to myself again, okay?"

"Take all you need," Kennedy assuaged. "I'll bring you tea."

"Oh, I've had enough tea. But—but yeah, I'll take more. Of course." Willow assured her.

Spike looked at Angel. "Time for the fun part."

Kennedy had stepped out of there, following on Giles' heels, muttering more plans and backups—what to do if the Misfit team weren't successful. Spike was just as quick to walk off after Angel, who was also commenting to the old watcher, before Spike noticed a quickening of a heartbeat, Jade's. He looked over his shoulder, seeing her still loitering around Willow's door while he had gotten halfway down the corridor. The door had closed after they had vacated, but now it opened, the red-headed Wicca peering through. She murmured something to Jade.

"It's done." Willow said in a raspy tone, a quiet whisper that Spike could barely pick up, while Angel continued walking, oblivious. Willow passed something surreptitiously to Jade, something small enough to be passed through their hands, and he watched the Slayer pocket it. She gave a tired, but grateful smile to the witch.

"Thank you." Jade spoke back.

"I hope you don't need it." Willow said, genuine.

Jade gave her another encouraging smile. The two of them were lost in their little exchange, and then Willow was shutting the door, and Jade was alone in the hallway. She noticed him then, the faraway look she had in her eyes fading to one of anxiety as she stepped towards him, putting on a impassive face.

"What was that, then?" Spike asked without preamble. "What did the wicca have to give you? Special protective spell? Some good mojo to help us on our way?"

"It doesn't matter," Jade said with uncharacteristic dismissiveness, and moved to past him. Spike shouldered in front of her in recompense, his slightly mocking tone now turning to full blown suspicion, bordering on aggression. He wouldn't deal with this surreptitiousness, not now. They were about to rescue Buffy. He wanted truth, not some unknown angle.

"What is it, Jade?" He demanded, harsher now. She looked at him, her lips in a thin line as she searched his gaze. "Looked a bit secret, your exchange. Bet Kennedy wouldn't like the fact you're asking her mistress to work a bit of secret magic—"

"It's a necklace." Jade revealed it, her voice indifferent, resigned. It looked, well. It looked like any amulet meant to bugger up something. Gold-looking chain, with a clear, empty glass sphere in it, that wasn't overly big. He was about to open his mouth, with one of the many smarmy remarks he had on hand when she continued speaking. "It's so I don't come back."

"What?" He asked, frowning.

"So I don't come back," Jade clarified. "As a vampire. If we get captured—killed on this. So I don't become one of the army. That's what I asked her to make me. Happy now?" Her last words turned more scathing, and this time when she stepped past him, and Spike let her. Well, now he felt like an arse. He knew what she was giving up, what she had offered when she said she was going to save Buffy with him. Her life, her life was in the balance. She was a Slayer, she was wanted. As one of the army. And she didn't want that, the same way Spike didn't want to live if Buffy didn't. So they were the same, once again. Something else in common. Living to a point.

"Look," Spike said at her departing her back. She stopped, as he knew he would. Cruelty wasn't in her nature, nor was dragging it out, punishing him. She turned towards him, her face calm, waiting. "Been a bit of an arse. You don't have to—"

"I want to." Jade repeated. "I told you I would. And I meant it. I'm here to help. I just wanted to make sure my coming along wouldn't just feed their purposes. Er, literally."

He smirked, unable to help it, despite the seriousness, her bumbling was somewhat endearing. Relaxed him, in a way he didn't think he could, not now. Not on the precipice of danger. "I understand, Slayer." He told her, and she nodded, appeased. "It's a good idea. Won't come to that, though." He stepped towards her, regaining a bit of his bluster, his swagger. "We're too good for that."

The panic in her eyes had subsided, and a small, askew smile appeared on her lips. She nodded once, dipping her head. "Yeah, we are. Now, let's go and save Buffy."


	50. Chapter 49

**49**

When they arrived out in the parking lot, most of the gathered were into the vans, tucked away and ready. Giles, Gwen, Gunn, Angel, Kennedy and Faith stood there still, talking amongst themselves. Jade glanced once to Spike at her side. He wasn't pissed at her anymore, at least. Jade's heart beat so quickly, she had thought he might accuse her of lying to him. And he'd be right. She touched the bauble that Willow had given her, that now rested beneath her clothes, around her neck. It seemed so light, she was afraid it wasn't really there. Would it work? She knew the risks. That even if it had been enchanted properly, there was a chance that it just wouldn't take. There was too much to stress about, that it wouldn't work, that it _would_ , that she would have to use it. And the understanding in Spike's eyes when she had lied about its purposes. He was more understanding than she would have expected, a sympathetic, almost soft look in his eyes. At least she was back in his good books, which she wanted. She didn't want to deal with his anger, didn't want it if this battle went horribly wrong, if this was the last she knew of him. They were a team, they fought well. She'd prove that, here.

As they walked up, Gwen and Gunn were wishing Angel and Faith good luck. His hand entwined around Gwen's arms, the couple stepped back up the stairs that Jade and Spike descended. Gunn looked at Spike, giving him a respectful nod.

"Good luck, man." Gunn said, and Spike gave him a returning smirk.

"Don't need it, Charlie boy. See you on the other side." Spike said, with his normal confidence. It was refreshing, somehow, to hear it, even if it was an air, or too cocky. Yes, they did need luck. Lots of it. Refreshing to think that they didn't, but Jade didn't know what else would get them through this. Jade and Spike continued down, where the four remaining had started to argue.

"What do you mean I don't get to go?" Faith had started yelling. "Of course I do, are you out of your mind?"

"Gwen and Gunn are staying behind," Angel reminded her, somewhat dryly.

"Yeah, but this is me, boss. We're a team, remember?" Faith argued, furious. "I should be there, by your side."

"This is a Slayer-free trip, remember? That's why you gathered up the misfit club," Kennedy reminded the taller Slayer.

"Yeah, for back-up. But _I'm_ still going. And… what, you don't think you get to go, do you?" Faith took sight of Jade as she and Spike approached. "Or are you just here to see your boyfriend off?" She was aggressive, but Jade could tell it was more than normal. Faith was pissed, and upset, like Spike had been when Buffy told him that he couldn't go. The same way Jade would be if the same was for her. But she _was_ going to go. That was the difference.

"I _am_ going." Jade declared. Giles sighed and scratched at his forehead, Kennedy rolled her eyes, and Faith, somehow, just got angrier. Spike didn't react. He wasn't going to stand for her, and that was alright. Wasn't his fight, it was hers. He was letting her speak on her own, so that she wasn't just an extension of him, and she was grateful for that.

"Are we not getting the no-Slayer thing here?" Angel sighed first, rolling his bulky shoulders, but he wasn't as irate or as upset as Faith, and before the angry Slayer could start sputtering more curses, Jade interjected.

" _You_ can't go. For the same reason that Kennedy can't go." The two Slayers glanced at each other, before snapping their gazes just as quickly back at Jade. "You're needed here."

"That's the biggest crap—"

"The Slayers? The ones who just lost most of their generals? The ones who are young, and confused, and scary? They need you, Faith. They need Kennedy. They just lost Buffy. Some of your top generals. And if the Slayer-Vampire army actually happens? They're going to have to _fight_ them. People they trust. Care about. They need support. If we fail, you are all that's left. You have to keep them all safe. Protect them. You will be the last thing, because after they have the start of the army, they'll want every. Last. Slayer on the planet to make them stronger. And nothing will be able to stand in their way. Nothing. The Slayers don't need me. I'm shit-all to them, and that's okay. It means I can be here. I'm just the one, but I don't matter to morale. I'm not sitting behind here, because I wouldn't anyway. Going on that Jet, to get the girdle to save the girls, that's where I'm needed. And you're needed here. Because you care about protecting them. About fighting with them. So do it, and I go." Jade hadn't meant to talk so quickly, so vehemently, so _much_. She wasn't eloquent. She kept her sentences short out of preference, didn't want to get as red-faced with exertion and passion as Faith's was, but she stared down the brunette Slayer's half-lidded expression.

There was somewhat of a change in the atmosphere. Angel looked thoughtful, Giles exasperated, more resigned. Kennedy's expression was impassive, but almost perceptive, the tiniest of nods. She hadn't been arguing as Faith had, Kennedy knew that her place was here, as one of the foremost leaders. Faith, who just barely stayed quiet throughout Jade's speech snapped her lips irately. Faith looked to Angel, perhaps for input, or backup, but both the vampires were quiet. With an irritated huff, Faith glanced back to Jade, her expression close to a wince as she shrugged and rolled her shoulders. "Not fair, you know? Not one to stay home and sit on my hands."

"She has a point," Angel said, slowly, generously, not backing down at Faith's glower. "They need you here. This fight is ours."

"Not that I condone that you are, uh, any less important," Giles stressed, his gaze glancing to Jade, "This is a serious situation, and in lieu of Buffy's absence, you two," He looked between Kennedy and Faith, "Are our most senior Slayers, and are needed most here, in defense."

"Well, damn." Faith bemoaned, but the fight had leaked out of her. Jade thought back to the parallel of when she had first met Buffy, when she had to literally fight for her right to be a part of the mission, scuffling with an elite Slayer while she had bleeding holes in her body. Faith looked like she might want to fight, but her logic was wearing her down, an understanding that things were more important. "Fine. I'll stay here and play babysitter. But you better not die," She stabbed a finger in Angel's direction. "Or I'll be pissed. And _you_ , Girl Wonder," she said with rising fervor, although the acrimony was gone from her voice, just a bitterness remaining. "Carry the torch for us, then, yeah? And don't screw it up."

Jade nodded. "Yeah. I'll do my best."

"Time's a-wasting," Spike interjected irritably, halting any last chances for dissent. It was final, and they were leaving. "Be back soon. With Buffy." Spike headed over to one of the van doors, wrenching it open and crawling into the back. With a glance at his departing back, Jade followed in suite, glancing back to see Faith speaking a few more words to Angel, too hushed for Jade to hear. A reluctant goodbye, and then a more forlorn, "See ya, Boss." Jade closed the door behind her as they packed into the van, already inhabited by two grotesque and burly Fyarl demons that she recognized, normally used as henchmen by a couple of bigger players in Haven. Another man sat there, one who was surprisingly human-looking, with shorn brown hair and larger-than-normal dark, midnight blue irises and smiled ecstatically at Spike and Jade as they shuffled into the back. Angel slid into the front of the vehicle, and they were off.

"Hello." The human-looking man said, a bright, sincere cheerfulness as he looked between the two of them. Spike rolled his eyes and tipped his head back with an unimpressed grunt. "My name is Groosalugg. Some call me Gru. That is alright as well. I am honored to be part of this mission. Angel said—"

"That's great, and all, Duffer, but if I have to listen to you flapping your gob on our whole little van-ride, I'll throw you out before we get there," Spike interrupted, holding up a couple of fingers to stop Groosalugg before he said anything else.

"Oh. Of course. I did not quite understand some of those words, but if I am to take it to mean—"

"Shut up," Spike clarified, his eyes closed.

"Yes." Groosalugg said with more excitement. "Those words I understand. Cordelia, who was once my princess, she said those to me many times, explaining it in detail."

"Bloody hell," Spike groaned.

"You can still turn around and go back," Jade teased him. "If it's proving too much for you." Spike opened an eye at her, glowering.

"The battle I can handle. Bloody yammering, God, no."

* * *

"A whole jet." Jade stared at the thing. "That's pretty handy." It wasn't overly large, but it would just manage to fit their entourage and cargo, which they had started to board and load.

"Yeah, a parting gift from Wolfram & Hart," Angel commented, pulling the last of their equipment from out of the van, passing it Jade, who lifted it easily.

"Not so compliantly, though," Spike added, with a wistfully wicked grin.

"No," Angel agreed with a smile, looking at the two of them, and then looked over their shoulders, at something past them. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" The dark haired vampire exclaimed.

"Is that anyway to treat your son?" A voice, somewhat snarky came from behind them, and Spike and Jade turned to see a young man, probably the same age as her, with light brown hair that flopped in front of his forehead, and bright blue eyes.

"You are not coming. How did you even know—"

"Come on, Dad. I've told you this before. You only casually visit when there's some end of the world thing going on. You're not subtle at all."

"Yes. I'm subtle. I'm the king of subtle. I'm—that's not the point. You have classes, you have a life. This, this isn't a life."

"Uh…" Jade glanced between Angel and the younger man, slightly perplexed. She supposed vampires _could_ have children, if they were turned young enough, but the demon inside them would likely kill any and all family, or at least abandon them, Jade knew that well enough. And she had been pretty sure that Angel was older than Spike, by at least a hundred years. The math didn't add up, and she was _very_ sure that vampires couldn't have children. Unless it was an adoption, as Willow and Kennedy had done with Sophie.

"Connor," Spike drawled in a monotone voice. "Angel's son. Long story. Bloody boring."

"Connor, you aren't coming. This is no place for you to be." Angel ignored Jade and Spike, focusing on his son. Jade wanted to ask for the version, long and all, but it wasn't the place, so she scrutinized the 'son' instead. He looked smug and certain, although mostly ordinary, not overly bulky, of a larger frame like his father, he was leaner, dressed in civilian clothes, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Dad, I'm here. You need help. I aced my exams. Let me help."

"Should let the family debate amongst themselves," Jade had turned towards Connor, and was surprised to hear Spike's words basically in her ear, the white-haired vampire standing close behind her. "Get ourselves settled." He placed his fingers on the crook of her elbow, guiding her gently, and she nodded.

"I'll be there in a sec," Angel called to them without taking his eyes off his son, as Jade and Spike edged away.

" _We'll_ be there in a sec," Connor amended.

"Connor, for the last time!"

Their bickering followed them as they climbed up the steps. Jade glanced at the two, the father and son. They really didn't look much alike, except for their stance, their stubbornness. She had paused on the steps to watch them, looking up to see Spike staring down at her. She lugged the last of the supplies up the last step, which he took from her arms and threw it into the hold. "You're staring," The vampire commented to her, casually.

"Just weird. Adopted son, or—"

"Biological. As I said, long story."

"Cliffnotes?" Jade asked hopefully, and Spike sighed.

"Angel did the nasty with his sire, done a weird ritual before that to save her life, didn't work, granted a bouncing baby boy, got sent to a demon dimension, then came back, all growed up, then sent away after he made a bit of a muddle of things, got a new life, new identity, a happy boring, normal student kid, then got his memories back in a bit of a tussle with Wolfram & Hart. Helped Daddy out then went back to college days." He ticked off the points with his finger as he made them.

"Oh." Jade was confused. Mostly more than before. She figured she had the highly shortened version. "I see what you mean about the long story bit."

"Told you." Spike shrugged. "God, he's dragging it out." Spike commented, looking back to the open jet door. "Pretty obvious to me that Angel won't be able to talk him out of it unless he beats the kid up. Maybe I could help." Spike brightened. "Could use a battle before the battle."

As it was, Spike was right. A sullen Angel entered the jet with a smug Connor tailing him. They closed up the stairs, and Angel ordered, somewhat crossly for the Pilot to start take-off, storming off to the front of the plane. Connor looked around them, still self-righteously proud of himself as he looked up at Spike and Jade.

"Hi." He gave a light smirk, balancing himself easily as the plane began to shift.

"I'm going to search the liquor cabinet," Spike announced and stalked off with one objective in mind. Jade cast her sight on the young man. As she had thought before, he looked so ordinary, but she knew looks weren't everything. Hello, she was a five foot three woman who barely weighed over 110, but she could lift her weight and then some. And she lived in Haven, she knew not to take appearances as fact. Connor glanced at her, still looking smug, and she was beginning to wonder if he could smile, or if smirks were his only outlet.

"You one of those Slayers?" Connor asked easily, casually, leaning against the bulkhead. Jade nodded.

"Yeah. And you're… Angel's son?"

"Yeah, I am." His tone was flat, a statement, not filled with contempt or pride, just fact. "Sometimes. Mostly, I just go to school. No more of the supernatural fighting stuff. But… whenever Dad pops in and leaves without saying much, usually means something wrong. Is that right? End of the world kind of thing?"

"Yeah, could be." Jade admitted. A Slayer-vampire army. The thought still gave her shivers, and more resolution to not let it happen. Sure, they could only move during the night, the biggest disadvantage of being a vampire, but that wouldn't stop them for long. A Slayer was resolute, resourceful, cunning. A Vampire was all that and ruthless. Strong. She understood why Angel didn't want his son to come along, but if he something to add, which she figured was why he was here, strength, or something, then every body helped, and he couldn't be turned into a Slayer-vampire.

"Thought so. Well, that's why I'm here. Help save the world." Connor's conceited tone was back, but he wasn't all wrong.

"Yeah," Jade agreed. "Me too."

* * *

"You look sullen. Drink all your booze already?" Jade asked as she settled into a seat next to Spike. He sat near the back, away from the others. Most of the demons were spread out. Not a clumpy group, not overly fond of talking, they were interspersed throughout the jet with as much space as possible. Except for Groosalugg, who had found Connor, and was talking to him animatedly, and Angel, no doubt not wanting to spare his son from some punishment, looked smugly on from afar. And Spike was silent, his feet up to the seat across from him, looking up out into the sky. They had lift-off, they had flight, and a readily fast jet that would shave a few hours off their journey, more so than others. But it was still hours, hours in the air, hoping Willow's curse on the girdle would hold out until they got there. They were all waiting, tense, for the witch to let them know when it failed. Until then, they still had a hope to stop their enemy before their Slayers were turned.

Spike was quiet, his fingers tapping the armrest. He was wordless for so long, Jade was beginning to think that sitting beside him was a bad idea, that what he really wanted was peace and quiet, to himself, and she was about to leave when he turned towards her. "All cleaned out," He said in a disgruntled tone, and it took her a second to realise he was talking about the alcohol she had asked about. "Bloody disgrace." He looked back out the window. "Not that it would have done much good," He admitted as an afterthought. "Worse invention they've ever done; making liquor bottles tinier. _Tinier_. _"_ He stressed, as if in disbelief. But it was a front, just something to complain about so he didn't have to think. And there was nowhere to go on this small plane, nothing to do. Well, not nothing.

Jade felt around in her backpack, past her stakes and holy water. She'd thought of taking her art supplies for the plane, but it wasn't a pleasure cruise. They were on a mission, so she had brought weapons. Mostly. She caved a bit, bringing one thing to pass the time. Her fingers rubbed against the smooth edge, and she pulled out the small package, a worn, faded deck of cards. Spike, who had been watching her movements surreptitiously, managed a smirk when she pulled it into view.

"I wondered where that had gotten to," Spike drawled. "You snatched it, didn't you."

"You _forgot_ it," Jade corrected, smiling back at him. When the spirit's possession had been slowly killing her, and Spike had to stay with her, card games had been a handy use of their time, when he was tired of tv and she of drawing. And it had been nice for a while, until she had gotten weaker, and slept more. Now, she fiddled with the armrest between them, which could be pulled out for a small table. She leaned in towards him, passing him the deck, and he wordlessly accepted it, automatically shuffling.

"You know, one of these days you'll have to learn how to shuffle," He commented as he rifled through the cards flawlessly, with inhuman speed.

"Eh, I'll just make you do it." She disagreed, smiling sweetly. "And don't stack the cards in your favor again."

"Again?" He was faux hurt. "Just uh, more incentive for you to do it yourself. Not that I cheat. 'Cuz I don't." He placed the newly cut deck on the table. "Cribbage?"

"Cribbage." Jade confirmed. It was their game. She hadn't been very good at it in the beginning, but after enough losses, she began to learn, and she didn't always lose. Well, as much. And as much as she teased Spike, he played honestly with her. She was mostly sure about that, though he was tricky if he wanted to be. And now, he was relaxed, eyes on the cards instead of out the window, lamenting his lost lover. She winced at the thought, but it was true. That was who they were going to go save, first and foremost. That was on his mind, not the countless Slayers trapped with her. She knew he cared about the loss of life, that he'd help them if it were Buffy at his side, but he had tunnel vision—Buffy vision. For as long as the blonde Slayer was trapped with the threat of death, he couldn't think of anything else. Except for their game, for at least a little while, Jade was happy to provide a distraction. She needed one. Thinking about what could happen, how terribly wrong everything could turn out to be could wrap her into a swath of fear if she let it. No, it was good not to think not too much, to spend these quieter moments with Spike, for as long as they could have them.


	51. Chapter 50

**50**

He was proud of Jade. Wouldn't mention it, no. She wasn't someone to look after and chaperone, she was an equal partner. Faith, the dark Slayer, who didn't follow any rules if she could bloody help it, had even understood Jade's point long enough to accept it. Jade was right; they couldn't go handing off all their top Slayers. That was how they lost so many in the first place, why they had lost Buffy. She'd taken her best and stalked off. Well, not her best. Hadn't taken Spike with her, now had she? Hadn't taken Jade, either. She should've. Sure, Jade hadn't been there as long as the other Slayers, but Spike preferred it that way. She hadn't been mollycoddled like Slayers were these days. In Spike's generation, it was as it had been. The Slayer was alone. Short-lived and alone. But strong in their solitude. Didn't know how to depend on anyone, when they only had themselves. Sure, the Slayers now lived longer, got more experience because they weren't dying like fleas, used to being a team, but they weren't used to having no-one to trust, no-one to watch their backs but themselves. Spike knew. Had plenty of experience with that, even when he had been with the Whirlwind, and Dru. Dru wasn't a fighter, not really. She had her eyes and her hypnosis, but she wasn't a fan of the scuffle. Not like Spike. He liked the rush, like the danger, uncertainty. Sometimes, he liked the seclusion. Not having to look out for anyone. He wasn't the protective kind; he wanted to chase off the danger, not hold hands.

Their band of misfits reminded him of older days. There weren't firm bonds of loyalty. They were here because their motivations aligned, for the most part. Some were here for blood, some for debts unpaid, some for money. Spike was here for Buffy. So was Angel. Angel'd take the higher route, claim he was there to protect the good, to stop this army before they could begin their devastation, but Spike had no confusions about his true cause. He didn't wear the white hat for the hell of it, he wore it for Buffy. And Broody McGee could yammer all day about being a Champion and what it meant, that they were good to do good, but Spike needed more than that. Couldn't just go on fighting the good side if he didn't think it was for something. And it was for Buffy, mostly. There was no doubt about that, even before he had his soul. Every good thing he did had been because of his love for her. And after his soul, well, a try for redemption came into play. His human soul had a hard time accepting everything he had ever done, all the lives taken, destroyed. All the blood that followed him. So he was swayed to good, with the taste of battle as a side serving.

Similar to Jade. She wanted the fight. She wasn't perfect, in her solitude, no. She'd left the Slayer life after she had lost her loved one, turned from it. Went to hide in back-water, lowlife town of Haven. It wasn't something a hero would do. A hero would have kept up the good fight, and she had run from it completely. It hadn't been the right thing to do, but Spike understood it. She was like him. Angel'd fled to spread his goodness around like butter, but it wasn't that easy for everyone else. Not for Spike. After he'd been rejected by Buffy a few too many times, he had ran out to Haven too. Just forget the world for a little bit. Hadn't started his Spike Investigations business or anything soppy like that. Just settled down for a bit of quiet poker and inane tussles. Wouldn't have lasted him forever.

He was here now, wasn't he? Sitting in the hull of a jet, waiting for it to land, to take them to their destination, where it was another one of those succeed or die trying situations. And he had thrown himself right in to it. So had Jade. Perhaps it was the martyr-dom of Slayer-ness, not flinching from a mission that would very likely lead to their death. But she hadn't hesitated. She had stared down Bossy Britches Kennedy and Miss Bad Faith. Told them they were more important and had to stay back. And they'd accepted it. Of course, Kennedy had. This was her chance for leadership, to step out of Buffy's shadow while the blonde Slayer was AWOL, of course Kennedy, the opportunist, would grab for it, gladly stay behind and shout orders to her heart's content. But Faith, another fighter, not one to sit around and play stratagem, even she had accepted the truth. That this fight wasn't hers. Jade had done that, Jade who could find a hell of a lot of passion for something when it wasn't about her.

He knew that Jade wasn't overly buddy-buddy with Buffy. Her offering to help hadn't been out of a sense of loyalty to the head of the Slayer Organization, but rather to him. Jade had this notion of friendship, which meant loyalty to him, to his battles. He felt a bit of guilt, then, knowing she wouldn't be helping if he wasn't there, but he wouldn't coddle her. Angel had his unwanted tagalong, his own son, that he'd rather be anywhere but here, but it wasn't the same for Spike and Jade. She didn't want to be protected, didn't need to be. She wanted to be of help, so bloody let her. No use worrying about the future if they didn't have a sense of it. Take it by the day. By the hour. By the game of cribbage.

"You really are terrible," Spike observed, as he put himself twenty one points ahead.

"I have bad luck." Jade disagreed, with a sigh and a huff as she ran her fingers through her hair, looking disappointedly at her crib hand. "Six and nine is fifteen two," She muttered to herself. "And…."

"That's all you have." Spike informed her, looking at her miserable array of cards.

"Bad luck. Or lack of it. Probably the lacking. Hand yours over, please." Jade sighed, giving the cards to him to shuffle and deal.

"You make bad judgement calls," Spike smirked, rewarded by a glower from the dealer as she pushed forward cards to him. "Yeah, you've had some duff hands, but some rotten choices too."

"Shut it," Jade said with false animosity. "You just had a hand of a Queen, a Jack, two fives and a five starter. You didn't have to do anything."

"You jealous, luv?" He teased her, passing his tongue down the bottom edge of his sharp teeth. She wrinkled her nose at him, an expression that was anything but intimidating. He shuffled the cards, dealing them back out to her. He heard her sharp intake of breath, saw the wrinkles crease in her forehead. "And you have a right awful poker face."

She glared at him. "This isn't poker." With a sigh, she slid two cards from her hand, into his waiting crib.

"Are you going to give me two fives again?" He mocked, smirking wider at her miffed expression.

"That happened once. And I didn't know you'd put two jacks into your own crib. Alright?"

"Probably shouldn't have given me the chance."

"Well, I know that now. How far are you from 121 points?"

"Not very." He informed her smugly, enjoying her sigh of frustration as she glanced over at their sheet. Lacking a wooden board, they had been ticking off the points on paper, and his far outnumbered hers.

She smiled back, as a reflex more than a realisation she was doing it, shaking her head. He flipped up the first card, and she planted one from her hand. Playing on it, this part was more mindless. Most of it was mindless, to him, but she still had trouble with the counting part of it. If he didn't have such a shining halo on his head, he wouldn't correct her wrong totalling, but as it was, he was a bloody saint. Banter was easy, back and forth. Nothing deep, nothing consuming. No-one interrupted them, which he preferred. No doubt Large Forehead was brooding somewhere away from his son, near the front of the plane, while the other demons were entertaining themselves with some sort of game. Illyria had passed them some time ago, likely to join Angel near the front. She wasn't one for conversing, and had looked down with disdain at the small card game between Spike and Jade. The roar of the engine drowned most of it out, and he didn't need to think or hear much past the game with Jade. There was a rattle, then, and they moved their fingers to steady the cards. Her eyes flickered past his shoulder, out the window behind him, a troubled look in her blue eyes, distant.

"We're descending," Jade murmured in explanation. "We must be getting close." If she was trying to keep an even tone, she failed. He could read her well most of the time, and now was no exception, even as she dragged her gaze back to her cards, distractedly placing a five card down that he easily counteracted with a royal card, two points to him. He watched Jade as he scribbled down the change. She wasn't one for the calm before the storm, at least not the high-tail end of it. She was anxious, he could see that, the smile gone from her lips as she hurriedly ended the play. As her hands moved to sweep the cards back, he reached out, grabbing her wrist. She'd gone into that head of hers, thinking too much. He knew she didn't regret coming here, but like him, she had a hard time dealing with the lull before the action. Thinking was bloody overrated. She stilled her movement, glancing from their hooked hands up to him.

"Nothing to worry about, yeah?" He said, falsely. There was plenty of them to worry about, thus for the frown lines on her forehead, the tentativeness in her eyes as she glanced between them and the window. "Willow'd tell us if the girdle been de-cursed, so we know there's no great army waiting for us, yet. Nothing to worry 'bout." He didn't mention that Buffy's team, made up of a great many more people and Slayers—more than the flunky Fyarl and Wainakay Demons. Slayers, intelligent, cunning fighters that were strong and resilient as hell. They'd gotten taken out, so the ragtag band they'd assembled wasn't looking overly pretty. She knew that. She had reason to be anxious, so he should have let her. She knew when to push it away when she had to, but for some soft reason, he felt obliged to comfort her.

"Yeah," Jade agreed, quietly. "Don't worry. This isn't cold feet." She smiled crookedly at him. "Just getting closer, is all."

"Yeah." Spike echoed. "You know, what you said to Faith, it ain't all true." Jade arched her eyebrow in silent question. "You mean more than shit-all." He was rewarded by a smile, brief and small, but present, as she nodded her head in gratitude, squeezing his hand back ever so gently.

"You, too." She said coyly, a bit of amusement in her eyes as he shook his head vehemently.

"The term for my participation is bugger all. British, you know."

"Oh, I don't think I could forget. Bollocks."

He grabbed at his chest as if in pain. "No, please. You'll butcher it."

"Bloody hell." She teased him, popping each word with her lips.

"God, no." He said in fake agony, thankful that at least she was attempting to copy his accent; butchering once again came to mind.

"Tea and crumpets?" She said, almost sweetly, smiling now.

"I need a stake." Spike groaned.

He'd gotten her to smile at least, forget, for the moment, what they were up against. There wasn't much of a air-strip out here, which Angel had neglected to mention, but they landed near a lake, with just enough flat land and absence of trees to avoid hitting anything. It was daytime, which Spike was about to sorely protest until he saw the sky, the copious amount of clouds in the sky. They'd be protected from the sun, for now. They were still a couple miles from where the supposed temple was, though they wouldn't be able to see it until they were rather close, as with Haven. They also had to make sure they weren't detected before they got there. From what Kennedy and Willow had said, Miss Slayer-Vampire Mandy and her beloved Derek the Vampire Wizard had amassed a vampire following, although how many remained after Buffy and her Slayers were taken remained to be seen. If they were lucky, they might not have more than just a few vampires to deal with, just the big bad couple of doom. But they couldn't depend on luck. Still, they had some formidable players. Illyria didn't have the powers she once had, which would have made one buggering of a difference, but her imposing strength, at least she kept. That had been the underlying point for all of them. Brains, not exactly a necessity, but being able to take a hit from a suped up Slayer-Vampire without crippled immediately, that was on the list.

"Alright," Angel spoke to his gathered group, demons, an Old one, vampire, Slayer, his son. "We have some ground to cover. For now, the belt is still cursed. Willow will let me know when that changes. We don't know how many enemies we're up against. Prepare yourself for a lot. We'll likely have to kill them before we can attempt a rescue."

"They will fall by my hands." Illyria vowed aloud, dipping her chin and raising it. Spike sighed. Illyria's taste for battle, that Spike could understand and appreciate, but her social skills were rather lacking. Though his attention was quickly diverted back to Angel, who was acting like it was his show to run.

"We should be getting the prisoners out first," Spike disagreed. Bloody hell, didn't expect those words to come from his mouth. Rescuing over fighting. But the one to rescue was Buffy, and she was his first priority. Once she was safe, or at least fighting beside him, then he could focus. Then, he could kill them all.

"We're doing this my way." Angel returned, exasperation underneath the authority in his tone. "We don't know what the setup is like until we get inside. For now, consider them too trapped to help us. If that changes, we'll change too. Got a problem with that, Spike?" The older vampire added, a bit irritability.

"Tired of the talking, is all." Spike retorted. He _was_ antsy. This big speech before the end time didn't thrill him to bits, especially since it was directed by Angel. Sure, they had gotten closer in their soulful days, and it was true that they were a fiercesome pair in battle, by how well they knew each other, their strategies from their Whirlwind days, but they'd never be completely over their antagonism, especially when Buffy was involved. Like she was, now.

"Good. You can stop it, then. When we get to the temple, you and Jade," The dark eyes flickered between Spike and the Slayer at Spike's side, "Your task is to get the girdle. Get the girdle,"

"Control the soulless. Keep them from making the army." Jade finished. She dipped her head, more willing to take orders than Spike was. And alright, maybe it was an acceptable plan, even if it came from Angel. Instead of taking down the big players, they could just take the power right from under their feet. If the girdle held out that long. If it did, they just had to destroy it before it could be used, if it didn't, perhaps they could use it to their favor. Control the soulless, as Jade said.

"What about the rest of us? Just kill things?" Connor asked in a lackadaisal tone, the smirk that made him look like his father on his lips. Angel glared back, still pissed at himself that he let his son come along. Well, that was his own problem. Had to get a handle on the little tyke, especially that he figured himself some big bad demon killer.

"I will fight with valour," Groosalugg promised, next to Connor.

"Connor, Gru and I will go for Mandy, the Slayer-Vampire. Illyria, Tom and Val will go for Derek, the Vampire-witch. The rest will fight what comes our way." Angel glanced to Spike, not for confirmation. Spike knew what the older vampire wanted of him without him having to say anything. Rolling his eyes, Spike repeated the instructions to the Fyarl demons in Fyarl.

"Kill. Vampires." Seemed easy enough. The Fyarl demons pounded their chests, accepting this directive. Then they were off, loaded up, leaving the pilot and the jet behind. Through trees and hills, they followed Angel in his bloody white hat, leading the charge to save the woman he loved. Except it wasn't just _his_ woman, it was Spike's too. He was there too, but he was no backup. Angel had such a big head, something he shared in common with Angelus. Always had to run the show. Thought he was the master of plans. Spike could make plans too, he just found carrying them out to be boring. But his and Jade's task was simple enough. Steal the Hippo belt, or whatever the hell it was. Save the world, again. Save Buffy, get the girl.

That'd be a nice reward, but it wasn't why he was doing this, not completely. He had a habit of getting roped in to world-saving tasks, somehow. Even as a soulless demon. But this one, this one would go better. The last times, the last times he'd tried to help the world, he'd lost the girl and then burst into flames. Oh, there were his times at Wolfram & Hart, but he'd buggered up that too. Couldn't save Fred from turning into Illyria. And there she was, coming up curtly on his side, looking possessively at him with her inhumanly blue eyes. Right, that 'pet' thing she was always going on about. Illyria really had enjoyed beating on Spike, and as much as it had hurt like hell, it had been good for him. Kept him on his toes. And he had learned how to adjust, how to stay up longer against her massive strength. She'd said adaptability was a weakness, but Spike knew better. Couldn't live this long and not know better.

He glanced to his left, where Jade was. She saw his glance, and returned it with a furtive smile. She'd bottled her apprehensions, at least for now, and she was no less determined than the rest of them. Probably more. And he liked having her here. He trusted her now, more than any of the bungling demons they'd slung along with them. She wore the white hat now, even if she didn't trust herself to don it. Hell, Spike had avoided it all costs, but it still sidled on his head from time to time. And it was time for the white hats to charge, to win this fight, the good fight.

It was over an hour that finally, Angel noticed it first. It was much later in the afternoon now, but still the sun was blocked by the stormy sky, a blessing. Spike didn't fancy playing jackrabbit from tree to tree, even if the forestry was numerous, and large. There wasn't much talking. As Spike knew, tracking a vampire wasn't easy. They didn't have a heartbeat, didn't breathe. They could give off the scent of blood if they recently fed, but other than that, they didn't sweat like humans, knew how to move silently and quickly. It was hard to tell if there were vampires already in this forest, looking at them. There was their sense of smell, but it was harder to distinguish the faint scents, are there were quite many. But as they sped through the forest, Spike was only interested in one scent. Trying to find Buffy's in the interwoven aromas of a dense forest, hoping for that smallest trace, yet finding nothing.

He was bloody impatient and done with wandering the damn trees like Hansel and Gretel when Angel held out his hand, stopping them all, waving some gestures like he was in the goddamned army. But still, the small group stilled, quieted. Moved closer, as bid by Angel, and then they could see it for themselves. It was incredible that it had been unseen by them for so long, for as they stepped into its range. It revealed itself, old and crumbling, stone covered by moss and lichen, draped over the barely disturbed surfaces. It didn't interest Spike all that much. Hell, he came from Europe. There were bloody castles all over the place, and plenty of dusty stone buildings that he'd been in. It wasn't very large, or very tall, looking like it expanded into the underground. That was fine. He stepped so close to Angel that they almost brushed shoulders, as Spike stared at the temple. Here it was. Here where Buffy was. He breathed in, and this time, this time, he could taste it, the barest of sapidity that belonged to his Buffy, the coconut hint, and yes, blood. She was a fighter, his Buffy. Fought hard, and to be dragged here. And they were so close, now.

"I see no enemies," Gru commented placidly, breaking the silence and blinking calmly at the sudden temple. "Are they perhaps also hidden?"

"Maybe they're waiting for us, inside," Angel shrugged, then with a slight smirk, the face that reminded Spike of Angelus, that desire of a good fight that hadn't been snuffed, despite the addition of a soul, "Let's not disappoint them."


	52. Chapter 51

**51**

They were inviting being attacked from, anywhere really. From the temple that loomed over them, or the trees that encircled them. They could be surrounded quite easily, but with confidence, arrogance, and necessity, Spike surged forward with the rest of the group. He didn't seem concerned, he seemed eager. But that was Spike. They were done with the waiting, it was time for action, time to see what awaited them instead of imagining it. And it was intimidating, frightening even. So much hinged on this, and so much could be lost if they failed. She thought to her necklace, resisted the urge to grab at it. Had to be ignored, had to be thought of an insignificant thing that had no purpose. And she hoped that that would be the case. That it didn't need to be used. That somehow, everything would go according to plan, as Angel had laid it out. Sounded so simple when he said like that, but there were so many things that could change in a heartbeat. She hoped she was quick enough to keep up, that she didn't fail. So many lives, and Spike's unlife, depended on it, depended on this small rag-tag group that surged up the temple's stairs.

The dust before them, cobwebs gathered and strewn, was disturbed, but it was hard to tell how much. Jade wasn't a hunter, at least not in the traditional sense. She couldn't track someone through the woods, wasn't all that skilled at telling if twigs were cracked or not. She had the Slayer's heightened senses, of course, could tell when someone was nearby, but the more human, more traditional way of tracking, she had little luck with that. There was no lights, nothing to light up the place, just the very dim gray light from the sky, which darkened even further as they moved further into the temple. It was silent, silent but for the shuffling of their feet, with the whistling of wind. Jade gripped her hand tighter around her bow, holding it close to her shoulder, her machete hanging at her hip. She felt nervous, more than she should be. It wasn't the thought of battle that she was scared of, it was the interim, the waiting. Angel continued to signal to them, and the group made little sound beyond their footsteps and the Fyarl Demons' growling, which while muted, still seemed loud.

Illyria stared ahead, impassive and unbothered as she sneered at the markings on the walls, the foundation of the temple they graced. "A pathetic commemoration to some forgotten deity," was her comment. She seemed unnerved by the silence, if she was bothered by anything at all. Spike was quiet too, his eyes focused, mouth slightly open as if tasting the air. And his hearing, far outweighing Jade's. They moved through the large halls, open, wide rooms covered with dust and webs, pillars stretching up to the ceiling, yet nothing else. No enemies, no Slayers, no Buffy. Just an emptiness. And it was getting harder to see, so she clicked on her flashlight, as did Connor and Gru, small beams of light piercing the growing darkness. Cracks through the stone would have provided sunlight if there was any this day, but the gray sky kept it from them. Not that the Vampires cared, Angel and Spike, who were leading them deeper in.

"Anything?" Jade turned to Spike, her word almost a whisper, barely more than mouthing it.

"Shh." He responded, just as quietly, but turned towards her, his lips tilting upwards in what was almost a reassuring smile. She nodded, hoping the fast beating of her heart wasn't as obvious to him. He'd tried to comfort her on the plane, and it had worked, mostly, but the threat was still out there, and there was so much to go wrong. And she was thinking, so much more than she wanted to, each exhale of breath sounding unbearably loud to her. The group spread out slightly, without speaking, as the ground they covered became larger. And they moved through the temple, each place less distinctive than the next, a big open space that carried nothing, nothing but faded engravings on the walls, no decorations, nothing. Nothing but…

"Dad. Over there." Connor spoke first, pointing. "There's cracks in that wall over there, like it opens."

"I do not recognize the symbols over it, but it does look to be a doorway, of some kind. Marvelling." Groo breathed as he stepped up beside Connor.

"I think you mean marvelous," Connor pointed out with a slight scoff, passing his flashlight into Groo's hand as he approached the stone wall. Jade and Spike turned towards them, but Angel was there first, stepping in front of his son and feeling along the stone wall.

"What?" Angel said at this son's glower. "It could be booby-trapped."

"In that case, I got it, Dad. I'm fast too, remember?"

"It is a door." Illyria said, ignoring the bickering father and son. "We should be able to break through it." She flexed her gloved hand.

"Not so bloody fast," Spike interjected, as he grouped up with the others, inspecting the wall before them. "Not as strong as you used to be, remember, yeah?" He stated, earning a glower from ice-cold inhuman eyes. "Plus—"

"If we break through it, that will be a hell of a noise." Angel finished as he peered through the small crack. "Looks like there's stairs on the other side of the door, heading down."

"What do you want us do then?" Connor asked, impatient.

"Might be able to pry it open." Angel considered, with a glance at Spike. Jade wondered if the older vampire knew he even looked. Yes, she had definitely noticed the rivalry between the two souled vampires, but they knew each other. They were comfortable with each other, and acted as a team, whether they wanted to or not. Jade was arrogant enough to think she was beginning to be that way with Spike too. That they knew each other, that she wasn't just a new addition.

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "Let's give it a go, then. Both sides of the door." He skirted to one side, Angel and Illyria stepping to the other side. Groo followed Jade as she stepped to Spike's side, and Connor joined his father.

"Can't fit my fingers in. Give me that blade." Angel told his son, who handed him one obediently. "Why didn't we bring a crowbar?" Angel muttered, mostly to himself, as he tried to get some leverage on the sword, wedging it between the stone slabs with an unsatisfactory scrape. Then a snap, as the blade broke off in his hands. "So, no to the swords then."

"My hands are smaller," Jade asserted, as heads turned towards her. "So are Illyria's. We might be able to wedge it open enough for the rest of you to get a grip in."

Angel was nodding, but Illyria blinked icily. "I do not need your assistance." The blue woman began to strip off her gloves, exposing more pale blue skin, while Spike rolled his eyes and arched his eyebrows.

"Settle down, Blue. Let her help." As Illyria opened her mouth to make a comment, Spike glowered at her, and with a flash of irritation, Illyria slowly nodded, stepping to the crack and slipping her fingers in, allowing enough room for Jade to step in beside her, and as she was a couple inches shorter than the blue woman, she ducked in easily. Before Jade had a chance to count to three for their combined strength, Illyria had already began to pull.

"So much for on three," Jade muttered sarcastically, and added her strength. There wasn't enough room for both of her hands to be together, so one was slightly higher than each other, the hands brushing each other as she fought to push them apart. Jade gritted her teeth together to avoid a grunt of exertion, her elbow lightly touching Illyria's hard torso. The two women struggled for a couple seconds longer, before Illyria released the door with some exasperation, irritated.

"It is not working. Her strength is not enough," Illyria said haughtily, hiding her annoyance at her own lack of strength by blaming it on her companion. Jade understood that well enough. Illyria was an ex-God, who had untold strengths and abilities. Now she was just a shell, and that wasn't always easy for her to accept. But Jade wasn't about to take the blame on this one. There was an aura of frustration from everyone. They needed this to work. It wasn't the time to be gentle and understanding, at least not with Illyria.

"Or maybe it's because you're not a Slayer. Now try again. Unless you're all spent." Jade glared up at the Old One, hoping her words carried more weight than it felt. Otherwise, what would they do? Use the Fyarl and Wainakay demons as battering rams? That'd make a hell of a sound. If they hadn't been detected yet, that would definitely do the trick. Illyria looked back, affronted, but her pride required her to step back towards the door. Jade caught a glance of Spike, his amused smirk, and that was enough motivation for Jade. In synchronicity, the two women tried at the door again, their muscles straining. There was a creak, then, a scraping sound, as the stones began to shift. Hope gave way to elation, the two women continuing to push until—

"That should be good. We can get our hands in now. At least the human sized ones." Angel stated, alleviated. The rest of them threw their hands into the mix, somewhat awkwardly, fitting into the slots alongside Jade and Illyria. Jade felt something brush her arm, Spike's chest as he moved in behind her, his hands touching hers as he added them beside her own. It was almost intimate, how close they were, and she could have felt his breath if he had some. He caught her glance, raising his eyebrows in an amusing gesture, and then, on Angel's mark, they were pulling. The stone slabs turned outwards, by their bidding, sliding further apart until finally there was an opening. Jade stepped back, her foot nearly stepping on Spike's toes, which she curved her heel swiftly to avoid. She was jarred then, and felt a steadying hand on her hip, Spike's hand, very briefly, and then she was standing on her own. He had moved back then, they all had; the door was opened. She turned to look at Angel instead of Spike, now as he peered into the descending steps. "Here we go," The dark haired vampire said, gesturing for the rest of them to follow him down.

More cobwebs, and nothing to light their way except for their flashlights. They continued down the steps, Spike at Jade's side, when suddenly both Spike and Angel tensed. Angel shared a look with his son, who immediately turned off his flashlight. Spike gripped Jade's hand, his lips almost brushing her ear as he leaned in. "Turn off the flashlight," He said in a warning whisper, and she obeyed immediately, Groo following suit as well. "We're getting close," Spike continued his low murmur. "I can hear them below us." Angel and Spike moved slowly, as stiffly as the corpses they were, the group now moving slower, as quietly as possible. There was a light, one she hadn't noticed with her flashlight on, and it got brighter as they continued. Torch light. And then, a very quiet sound that almost sounded like talking. She couldn't hear it, but it was likely the vampires could, as it reverberated through the stone structure. Then she could almost hear the echo, though it was still difficult to discern, but she could see more clearly, see where the stairs led them. It flattened out, leading to a balcony, overlooking what seemed to be a large cavern, one that expanded even further down then they were now. In fact, they were almost above it.

They spilled out towards the balcony, with Angel gesturing for most of the demons to stay back, just in the corridor, a lizard like demon, the one named Tom curling up on his side as they looked down at the scene before them. Jade wasn't prepared, not really. The cavern was huge, elaborate. A giant statue seemed to have once graced the near height of the place, but it had been toppled to the ground, something that looked like blood smeared on the face. There were many things to look at all at once. Not the tapestry, or the torches, the smaller statues and ornaments, but much more important things. The vampires, gathered and hungry, loitering. The balcony was about three stories above the rest of the cavern, and so far, they were unnoticed. Wherever they came from was obviously not the normal route, Jade could see another tunnel near the bottom of the cavern, one more used, more elaborate. But even then, the tunnel, she barely glanced at. What she saw first was her.

She sat there, leaning on a bench draped with tapestry as if she was Cleopatra herself. She had long blonde hair, in tight curls, and she wore a tight dress, purple and pink with shiny specks, that only went about half-way down her thigh. She was propped up one on arm, looking lazily across from her. She was young, probably only about seventeen. So young, and dead. Once a Slayer. And now a vampire. Jade could tell. She could see it. She could see it in the arrogance of her sprawl, of the invincible aura she draped on herself along with a faux fur coat. She could recognize all that made her a Slayer, Jade knew these traits well, of course she did. And as a Slayer, she knew the vampire qualities in her too, even if the girl—Mandy, wore her human face, glossed with make-up and heavy lipstick. This was the Vampire-Slayer, who wanted to create an army. And there was her army-to-be.

It was with nothing other than relief that Jade saw them, two hundred young women against one of the walls. They didn't have the expensive drapery, benches or places to sit. They didn't have chains either, but that was because there was a cloudy, shimmering field that surrounded them. A wall of magic, like the one that had kept Jade from rescuing Neva and the kids. Until it was lowered, but they didn't have their anti-magic necklaces this time. And Jade could see the one that had cast it. Another young adult, maybe just barely in his twenties, of Indian origin and thin, with short, dark hair and a perturbed look on his face as he examined the one thing that could have ruined them all. The girdle. It was drenched in a black-looking magical energy, and he was casually flinging magic at it. So that was Derek, the Vampire-witch. What a tale of lovers, so young, so dead, and the whole of the world nearly in their grasp.

But it wasn't. Not yet. They had gotten there in time. Jade's relief was palpable, even as she could barely drag her eyes off Mandy. She had, to look through the captured Slayers. She had recognized a few. Some, she had fought with to rescue the Orphans. Then there was Bailey, and 'Peach' and 'Daisy', as Spike had called him, that had taken the miscreant Slayer away. And then, of course, there was Buffy. Jade was near enough to Spike to see the vampire stiffen and turn his head immediately in her direction, and if he was a human, he would have exhaled in relief. As it was, he only blinked for a few long seconds, his cheekbones prominent as he sucked in his cheeks. None of them were standing on the balcony, but kneeling, looking through the stone pillars that comprised it, and as his fingers were wrapped around one near hers, she touched his cold knuckles and gave him a light squeeze. They were here. It was all going to be alright. But then there was Mandy, and she was talking again, and for the first time, Jade could hear her words clearly enough to make them out.

"God, Derek, I'm getting boooored. Two days. That's how long. I've been waiting for you to fix that flipping thing. Two. Freaking Days. This is ridiculous."

"You said that two minutes ago, honey," Derek spoke back to her with a level of exasperation and affection in his voice. He flicked another ball of light at the girdle, but the black shimmering magic only observed it. Derek scrunched up his face, flicking at his chin.

"Ughhhh. It failed. Again. Again. You're not even black-eyed. You're not trying." Mandy pouted, swinging her legs over the side of her bench as she shoved her fists up into her cheeks, making them puffed up. "I'll get a neeew witch. One that can actually, you know. Witch."

"Baby, don't say that. You know it hurts me when you say that. Plus. As you know. I'm keeping up this whole magical prison. Which any old magician would have a hard time with. So I can't use all my magic on de-mojoing that. Otherwise, no barrier."

Mandy sighed, then brightened. "Maybe it would be fun to catch them again." She looked back to the Vampires standing behind her. They were numerous, but not an army. Their numbers were lightened, as no doubt, the Slayers took out as many as they could before they had been captured. Still, there was a decent amount, but the vampires didn't bother Jade. It was Mandy. She knew, _knew_ that that was the biggest threat. Not even the witch. The magic didn't scare her as much as what she saw in Mandy. She acted the bratty teenager, but that was even more dangerous with the power she had. "Should we catch them again?" Mandy asked of her vampires. One looked to her nervously, whetting his lips. He had his vamp-face on, and somehow still looked like a scared rabbit as he glanced at Mandy.

"Well, Mistress. We lost quite a few from the battle before… We no longer outnumber them."

"Pffft." Mandy shook a hand in their direction. "Like you did anything anyway. Just a bunch of fluggies."

"It's flunkies, honey." Derek flicked another ball of magic.

"It is not. It's fluggies. I know what I'm talking about. Ugh, Derek, I am so tired of hiding in this pathetic underground cave. We still have to turn them all. And that could take. Like a whole day."

"It's only going to take a whole day because you want to test one out with the girdle first before you turn the others," Derek answered, his voice rising in greater irritation.

"Hey. That is smart. I am being smart. What if it doesn't work? I don't know if it'll work. And even if it works on our _fluggies_ over there, I don't know if it'll work on our Slampires, alright. And I'm not going to turn em all without testing them. Then I'd have a bunch of them strong like me and they'd be able to do anything they want, when they're supposed to be doing what _I_ want. Not going to have a big catfight on my hands."

"I'm just saying. You can't get mad at me for the delay, because you're going to delay it too, baby." Derek whined, and Mandy crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Who wears the extra tight, hot and fashionable pants in this relationship again?" Mandy asked. "That's right. Me. I'm the Queen. The Goddess. Goddess Mandy. Ruler of the world. And don't you forget it. Just because you're my boyfriend doesn't mean you rule over me. Remember that. I made all this happen." She gestured her arms smugly at the large cavern.

"Same plan." Angel had started to whisper. "We'll distract them, you—" There was a change in Mandy's behavior. She had reached for an urn, filled, likely, with blood, when she suddenly stopped, tilting her head up. Up, and up. Jade felt like her insides turned to stone.

"What do I hear, with my little ear?" Mandy called out, before turning back towards Derek. "See that. Like my little eye. But my ears. Although now I spy," She glanced back up to the balcony. "Some little hearts beating fast. Oh my. Company? I love company."

"Go, now!" Angel ordered to the demons. Without much choice, they vaulted themselves over the balcony, and down to the cavern. Yet another reason they needed the strongest, the jump would not be comfortable. Angel followed suit, with Connor close on his heels. Jade tensed herself to jump, standing up, but Spike gripped her forearm, stilling her, as the rest of their companions jumped into the fray. She looked up to him, startled, and impatient.

"Distraction, Broody said." Spike reminded her as the fight began. "Give a few seconds, yeah. Then we go. Get the girdle." They could speak more freely now, with the sounds of the battle beneath them. Jade felt like she could barely breathe. Desperate to join the fight, where she wouldn't have this apprehension of the beforehand in her chest, so they could get this girdle and save the others. Above the clamor, Spike began to count for her to hear. She glanced at him, his face fixated on below. "Five." Oh, they could die here. Spike, for the umpteenth time, and Jade. God, she didn't want to die. She didn't want to fail here. She didn't want the rest of the Slayers, who could only stare out helplessly, their hopes with those that fought for them. Helpless, waiting for someone else to decide their fate, death or life.

"Four." His hand still gripped her arm. He didn't blink, didn't move. There was a screech from below, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Spike. What if this was the last time… she couldn't complete the thought. Her time with Spike hadn't been long, but she had been quite consumed by it. Their friendship was a bond forged in the thrill of the fight, but then sometimes, even the quiet moments. She could actually talk to him, laugh with him. It was hard to accept sometimes, his unwavering yearning for Buffy, and though she had tried to keep that foremost in her mind so she wouldn't feel too strongly for Spike, she cared about it. A lot. He was magnetic, animated, an unstoppable force. A friend, a friend that could make her stomach clench and her skin rise with goosebumps every time he looked at her with those captivating blue eyes of his. She hadn't felt so alive since she had lost Bennett, and it might end here.

"Three." And it would be worth it. What she had at Haven, that wasn't living, that was dodging, and she couldn't have held it up forever. She hadn't been a Slayer in Haven, just a working woman with strange roommates, strange acquaintances who didn't double as friends, not in the truest sense. She didn't feel the loyalty that she felt with Spike, the trust, the thrill of fighting with him and beside him. And she'd meant what she said on her deathbed. That wasn't the way for a Slayer to go out, wasting away by a disease. But this would be. A battle, with Spike by her side. It was all she needed.

"Two." The word left his lips. The last would be the end. The end and they would throw themselves off of the balcony and to the cavern below and the fight for everyone's lives would begin. She felt panic rise up in her chest, but then, it stilled, levelled. Yes, it could be the end. If then, she so, she needed to stop thinking about Spike with Buffy, using that as an excuse. Stop hiding the fact that she felt something, she really did. That she had kissed him back, and how forlorn she had felt when he admitted that it was just to save her life. But he had kissed her, really kissed her, and maybe, if they hadn't been interrupted by Giles, he would have kissed her again. She didn't know. She wouldn't ask. But she didn't have to imagine. This could be the end, couldn't it. So it wasn't the time to be a coward. She wasn't a coward. She was a Slayer.

She reached up, and he turned his face towards her, seeing the movement in his peripherals. She clapped her hands on either side of his face, gently, turning his chin towards her own. She could force, she had the strength, but she didn't, just a gentle guidance, and he let her, a perplexed expression in his gaze, the last word frozen on his lips, their last second. And in that second, she pulled his face down, and pressed her lips, quickly and chastely, to her own. It was quick, fleeting, just the taste of him, his mouth that wasn't warm nor cold, applying just enough pressure back on her own. She pulled back, seeing his eyes stare back into her own, full of questioning, and for once, Spike, somehow, was speechless.

"For luck," She murmured. And it wasn't as long as she wanted to be, that kiss. But in this time, the time before they could live or die, she didn't have to think about Buffy, didn't have to feel guilty, or regret anything. She felt free and bold, and with a smile that held no expectations, only challenge, jumped up onto the balcony rail and jumped down into the fray.


	53. Chapter 52

**52**

He saw Buffy. That was all he needed. She was alive, trapped like bloody sardines with the rest of her Slayerettes, but alive. It was a sodding miracle. He could have recited a damn prayer, but he had to keep his relief in check. Yes, she was alive, and he was going to be the one to bloody rescue her, her and everyone else. He was going to save her, he wouldn't have to lose her today. All that stood in his way was that simpering Slayer-vampire and her equally pathetic boyfriend. They didn't intimidate him. Perhaps they should, but Spike didn't give many damns about authority. He skirted it and rebelled against it frequently and happily. It filled him with disgust to see how many sodding vampires were lingering around there, waiting for their will to be dictated to them like they were bloody minions. Sure, Spike had had his share of minions before. Flunkies, not fluggies as Teen Magazine was calling them, snapping her pink lips like she was a valley girl. Probably was, not to mention her highly exaggerated English accent that grated on Spike's ears, too high and too posh and too bloody much.

And she was ordering the vampires around, even without the belt. Thank God that Red's spell still held out. After this all went down, he owed the Wicca an apology. And he'd give it, freely and without too much reluctance, because it would mean that his own valley girl was alive and well, his Buffy. And they were so close now, so ready. The amount of vampires didn't bother him. He doubted many of them were as strong as he and Angel, not to mention the array of misfits they had tagging along. And Illyria, she was always fun in a fight. Didn't have much in the social attitude, but she was one to get her hands dirty, as if beating someone down would help regain her previous Godhood. When Pretty in Pink had mentioned being as strong as a Goddess, Illyria had tensed, her gloved hands wrapping irritably around the stone balcony. Yep, Old One was not fond of frauds, that was for damn sure. Good. Give her a bit of steam to blow off. Always handy to get people strung up before a fight, give them that extra edge.

Except for Jade, she didn't need the anger. She was focused, looking down, keeping her breathing steady to try to mask how her heart was beating all over the place. She understood the gravity of it all. So did Spike, but he welcomed the challenge, the risk. Be more fun that way. And plus, his girl could watch him kill them all from inside her little prison. And Jade, Jade could watch from his side. And he was comforted by that thought. He trusted her there, wanted her there even. She'd give her all, and so would he. He wasn't used to depending on the capabilities of someone else, but she had been worth the trust so far. When Miss Slayer-Vampire 2006 called attention to them all, he could feel her shaky breath, worried that she had been the one to give them up. It hadn't been that, or just that. Angel had been speaking, reminding them of their task. Get the girdle. And she wasn't the only one with a heartbeat. Didn't think Illyria had one left in that hardened cask of hers, but Connor did. Either way, they were lucky to have gotten this far without being detected.

As Angel said, it was time. Spike's eyes flew to Buffy. He'd get her out. He'd save them all. This was why he wore the white hat, what made him a champion. Because he could do good. Because maybe, each life saved could go towards the ones he had taken. He watched as Angel vamped and descended, followed by his misfits. By loyalty, love, money, or the thrill of the fight, without hesitation, they followed him. And so would he and Jade. Soon. Sometimes, he did accept the need for strategy. A couple seconds, to let the fighting break out, and then they could go for the belt. Likely, they'd end up near the Romeo and Juliet, for the strongest would be protecting the girdle, but with the others distracting them, he and Jade could get close. And then kill some things on the way there. So he had held her back. Told her to wait. Had been counting, when suddenly, she had reached up to him and pulled him down to her.

The times before, he had initiated the kiss. Part of him had thought that was because maybe, she didn't desire it. Spike went for what he wanted, knew Jade was demure, mostly. But here, she was pressing her lips to his, entangling that taste of mint and saccharine sapidity. It was brief, and he found himself almost disappointed that she pulled away. Actually forgot for a moment, the fight going on beneath him, floored. And then for luck, she said. He had to smirk at that, as he pulled himself back together on a dime, quick enough to match her leap to the cavern below, falling in unison. His legs absorbed the fall better than hers did—being dead and all, but she rolled to absorb some of the shock, and then they were separated a moment, by the mass of bodies.

Spike vamped, taking one of the stakes from his duster and plunging it into the chest of their enemy, kicking another back into the throng. And then he saw Jade, staking one with a wooden stake, and another with one of her arrow, plunging it into his chest and watching him turn to dust around it. She glanced at him, that tiny, quick smirk of elation, before seriousness took over the two of them again. They had to get to the girdle. It was harder down here, without their vantage point from the balcony. Their vision was easily obscured, the path not easy. It wasn't a human fight. Bodies were thrown, flying, from all over the place, above, beside, hell, he wouldn't be too surprised if one broke out of the stone and tried to grab his ankle.

He could hear Angel's roar, and moved towards it, not having to look to know that Jade was close at his heels, dusting another vampire without barely missing a step. She was right with him, blood pounding in her heart, breath coming quicker, adrenaline surging. She was in Slayer-mode, ready for the fight. And this was what they had waited for, the blood, the killing. The saving. They would save them all. Hell, if the Vampire wicca was killed, the Slayers could fight for their damn selves. Do some of their own rescuing. Win this fight.

They broke through the crowd, and there was Angel and Connor, scrapping with the Slayer-Vampire, or 'Slampire', as she'd stupidly dubbed herself. Or Goddess. Groo was there with them. Illyria and two of their demon friends had gone after the vampire-witch. Everything was going to plan, except for the girdle. The dead Slayer bitch had wrapped it around her arm. Obviously, the curse kept it inert, but not painful to hold. Point off for the Redheaded witch. Spike would have definitely liked to see some pain there. But it didn't matter, it just meant Jade and he would converge on the Slampire. Get that girdle from her. Then kill the Slayer-witch, rescue the girls. Rescue Buffy. And leave, bloody victorious. A perfect day. They could win.

And then Mandy reached her hand into Groosalugg's chest and pulled out his heart. It was so fast, so blindingly fast, that Spike knew in an instant that she was toying with them, toying with them all, making smoochie faces at Angel and Connor, who glanced in horror as blood dribbled down Groo's lips, to his chin, as he mumbled a broken, "Cordelia…" And slid to the ground. Spike didn't have to use his hearing to know that Groo was dead. Had no heart left to beat. It was held in Mandy's hand as she grinned, nonchalantly kicking the body at the father and the son. Connor hesitated, stricken, and Angel pulled him out of the way, as their friend became just another projectile. Then Spike became aware. They hadn't been winning. In one moment the wave of destruction was clear upon them. He could hear the death-roars dying in the Fyarls' throats as they fell around them, succumbing to their wounds, their flunkies dying easily, first.

They could all die easily. Derek was on the defensive, unable to use magic if he wanted to keep the barrier up, but then as quickly as Mandy had killed Groo, she came to her lover's defense. She hit Illyria with a swing so hard, it was reminiscent of Illyria's old strength. The blue being flew, _flew_ , like she was a pebble, thrown across the cavern until she hit the rocky walls and fell. Spike could smell her bloody from where he was, knew the distinctive, ancient smell of it. God, Mandy was so fast. So quick. Like the ancient vampires should be, but she was young. She was the strength of vampire and Slayer combined, with all the speed and agility of both. Slayers didn't lose their abilities after death, Buffy was example of that, the two times she had died. And Vampires, well. The dead were given their gifts, Slayers no exception. She was strong, stronger than they had expected. The true reason how all those Slayers were captured was apparent now. Something this strong and fast, with a witch to aid her, she was bloody near invulnerable.

They could lose. They could all lose. Spike could deal with dying. It'd have to happen sometime eventually, wouldn't it? Could be his time. He'd lived and unlived over a hundred and fifty years, and died way too many times. He could handle one more, one last rest. But he couldn't handle what would follow in his bloody wake. Could think that Buffy would die. She deserved more. She had ten bloody years as her tenure of Slayer. A decade. For vampires, that was for nothing, for humans, they had a couple of those, but for a Slayer that was damn well unheard of. She had singlemindedly made so much come to pass, constructed this whole Slayer Organization, something to be feared. And now, it could all come apart. The end of the white hats. Starting with him and Angel, the only two souled vampires in existence. Then Connor, the only child of vampires in existence, in history, and then Jade. Just a Slayer, but so much more. So unique, that rogue Slayer. He was beginning to see it, truly appreciate it. And she had thrown herself in, just like everyone else. Willing to fight, to die. The thought that he led her to her death filled him with an ache akin to pain. It wasn't right. They weren't supposed to lose this.

He charged in, no more hesitation, no more surveying the situation. He knew what he wanted and it hung on the bitch's arm. She smiled as he approached, giggling hysterically. Her hands were dripping with blood, and with a motion she might have thought was seductive, she gestured him in with two fingers. Oh, he'd be there alright. He swung at her wildly, as fast and as with much force behind it as he could muster.

"Oh, you are… pretty. Rawrr." Mandy made a ostentatiously shameless 'rawr', that reminded Spike of the light yipping sounds that Dru would make, yet with none of Dru's class, and just crass, pathetically childlike performance. "Don't tell my boyfriend, but you are hot hot."

"I can hear you," Derek whined from where he stood, behind her. "Vampire hearing, you know."

"Shut up and keep that force field up, alright. Honestly." She rolled her eyes and turned her head back to Spike. "He has jealousy issues. But I can't help it. Monogamy is not for Goddesses. And you are some sweet eye-candy."

"Oh, stuff it in your drawers," Spike drawled. "Not interested."

She pouted. She was keeping herself between him and the vampire-witch, who kept himself out of reach. Tom Cribb had slid back, pulled in to fighting the main mass of vampires, though Val Trepkos was staying on target. From what Angel had said, he had met the two of them in some illegal demon fighting ring—now that would have been a bloody hoot that Spike was sorry to have missed out on, and he was sizing up the Slayer-Vampire like she was an opponent in the ring, keeping his distance. Angel and Connor had regrouped, coming up with Jade on their side as the five of them neared the Slayer-Vampire bitch who didn't look concerned in the least, wrapping the belt enticingly along her arm.

"Oh, lovely. You guys brought me another Slayer, even. Aww. And goodness. What a treat. Angel, the great. Angel. I'm going to keep you. I know you have that bothersome soul, but I hear that can be fixed easily." Mandy said cheerfully, keeping herself out of range with simple blocks, languidly and easily keeping them at bay. "Going to keep you. You're hot." She pointed at Spike. "And you, you might make an interesting vampire. Because I think you're human, but you got some something in you. That might be fun." She ticked her tongue at Connor next. "You though… you look like one of those battering ram dinosaurs. That ankle-sauro or whatever. I guess there's not much use for you." And Spike knew, knew that she was going for Val next. And perhaps, if she tried to snap his neck, he would have lived. But his chest, bare, and not as protected as the bone covering his skull, that was vulnerable. And she was there, and this time her face changed, fangs showing, her eyebrows gone, and the familiar ridges appeared, the face of the vampire she was as she reached her hand towards his chest. And Val caught it, he did. Caught her wrist, but not the fist as it plunged into his chest, as she had done with Groo, but this time she took out bones instead of his heart, gripping them in her hand like a trophy. Spike was the nearest to Val, saw it happen and couldn't stop it.

But he could reach out, there, with Val's help, the last strength of the demon, holding onto Mandy's hand, and Spike grabbed it, landing a punch on Mandy's face. There was surprise, glee almost on her face, as she laughed. But then, her eyes shifted, and her free hand zipped up to catch the arrow out of the air, the one that Jade had stepped back to shoot at her heart.

"Don't hurt my face, that is just rude. A girl needs her face. Pretty and intact, thank you." Mandy frowned, puckering up her lips into another displeased pout. Spike thought he was holding there, as Connor swung at her and she ducked his kick, but with the pressure suddenly on him, Spike realised that she was the one holding him, which she demonstrated immediately after, flinging him off of her and sending him flying into the remaining vampires. He staggered back onto his feet. Jade had stepped back in to take his place, switching her bow for her favored machete. It was then he realised that the Vampires weren't attacking them anymore. That the rest of the demons they had brought with them were dead or incapacitated. That the remaining vampires weren't helping Mandy kill them, they were keeping them boxed in.

Bloody hell. They hadn't formed a promising plan, hadn't gotten lucky. They were trapped in. Trapped in by a willing spider, who continued to play with her prey. She was stronger than him, faster than him. Faster than them all. Arrogant and fearless as any Slayer, and cruel and ruthless like any vampire. He saw Jade land a punch on her, a full strength, Slayer punch, and Mandy didn't even flinch. Yeah, they could take her down. Maybe. If they had more people. A strength of numbers, or at least some goddamn luck. There was a crack and a cry of pain as Spike threw himself back into the fight, seeing Connor falling to his knees and holding his broken arm. Much in the same way Mandy had snapped Willow's arm, she could be non-lethal when she wanted to be, and still take the players out of the fight. It was just him, Angel and Jade left. And Angel could barely focus on anything but his son, fear and realisation rising in his eyes.

Angel had tried to treat his son as an adult who could make his own decisions, as a man who could redeem for his past mistakes, and now Connor could die because of it. They all could. And Spike had brought Jade alone, who promised to help him, and the medallion that Willow had given her proved that she knew dying was a possibility. A great one, and she had come anyway. Was willing to die. God, was this the end? The end of everyone he cared about? All the elation of battle had drained away, all the thrills. Now, it was a fight for survival as he threw his punches and kicks with desperation. Everyone was watching, all the vampires remaining, the Slayers trapped, Connor with his broken arm, as his father still tried to keep stepping in front of him, to protect him, while Jade and Spike slipped to fill in Angel's flanks. The slight bruise on Mandy's face had already healed, the reddened flesh now back to its overly fake sun-tanned glow. And Spike's shoulders were aching from how hard he had hit the ground. The three of them were doing a dance around Mandy, and the was handling them all easily, jumping up whenever they got too close. And she could jump far, further than a vampire or a Slayer. She rose up and down, catching Jade on the shoulder. The blow shook the smaller Slayer, and Jade bounced like a ragdoll, crashing down to the ground and skidding before she came to a stop.

"Jade," Spike could barely spare a breath of concern, only a moment's glance before he had to look back to Slampire bitch. He and Angel were fighting a desperate game. He thought of the parallels, all the times they had fought together in the past. He wondered, traitorously, if Angelus and soulless Spike could have done a better job than they were doing. If their soulless selves had the ruthlessness that they lacked. Buffy had accused him of it once before, that his soul had cost him his bloodlust, made him a worse fighter. And she had been right, at the time. He'd hoped he had proved her wrong by now, but he didn't know. Didn't know if chipped, neutered, love-sopped Spike stood more of a chance against Mandy than he did. Wondered if he'd see Jade lying there then, or if he could have bloody done something. He and Angel fought as hard as they could. For each blow they landed, they would take one that had them flying across the room. And still, the rest of Mandy's minions would not interfere. And they didn't need to. Even Derek was standing there, calmly watching. Damnit, they were fighting this and they were losing.

Mandy did an acrobatic flip, kicking Angel with both of her feet as she completed her airborne circle, and he staggered back, falling heavily. Then Mandy was there, following Angel's fallen body, climbing upon it like a cat. She struck Angel, hard, across the jaw, something that Spike wanted to do many a time, but he didn't want to see it, not now. Angel struggled to get up, and Spike rushed to his aid, but Mandy swung her leg quickly, kicking Spike back. God, he had taken so many hits now, his ribs were broken, and he was glad they weren't made of wood, because he felt like there were shards in his heart, his lungs. His face, well, that was a piñata, his leg probably broken, and his other knee swollen. He felt like he was fighting Illyria again, getting hit by a mack truck. Except, she had done it out of detached scientific curiosity, Mandy was doing it to put him down and keep him down. Connor had been crawling towards his dad's body, but vampires held him still, and he was too weak to fight, at least too weak to fight well, and with a blow at his head, the vampires knocked him out as well, joining his dad in the land of the unconscious. Well, at least, for now.

Spike rose to his full height, running his tongue across his sharp teeth. He was vamped, and his fangs were the only weapon he had ever needed, but it wasn't enough right now. Mandy jumped off of the unconscious Angel, turning back to Spike in what she thought was an alluring, seductive twirl. "Well, helloooo handsome." She smiled coyly.

"Mandy, baby, please." Derek groaned. "Do you have to flirt with everyone? And that straddling now? Did you really?"

"Oh, shush. Like I haven't seen you eyeballing our army. Yes, I know it's a lot of girls. But if you loved me you wouldn't ogle."

"I think I might vomit," Spike interrupted, with as much snark as he could muster. Couldn't show his vulnerability, his failing spirit. "Like he loves you. Probably just trying to use you for your fantastic bod and strength, luv."

"Oh," she blinked her face to one side, flapping her hand as if she was a 1950s housewife. "Well, you're not wrong. Gorgeous bod."

"Please, he's trying to appeal to your ego," Derek sighed.

"He is speaking the truth!" Mandy snapped back. "And flirting. That is how you flirt. First, you're incredibly handsome, and then you—hey, do you think you could take your shirt off? It would make beating you a lot hotter, and nice eye candy." She had turned back to face Spike after her 'hey'. The two were slowly gravitating towards each other, the last two in play.

"Trade you my shirt for that belt you got there," Spike nodded towards what was still wrapped in her hand.

"Belt? Oh, belt. Well, apparently, that spell your little Red-headed annoying miss annoyingness put on it is about to wear off, and I'm not that dumb. Although I am _dating_ someone dumb." She directed her comment back to Derek who huffed angrily in response. And she wasn't completely wrong. Spike could see it for himself, not about the magic blighter, he couldn't give a damn about that, but the shimmering magic around the belt had grown dimmer, just in the couple minutes they had been fighting. It wouldn't hold out much longer. Minutes, maybe.

"I am not dumb. You're the overly paranoid one! And high maintenance." The last comment was more of a pitiful mutter.

"Pleasssee. You should have done this hours ago. But no, you can't manage it. So shush. I'm talking to eye-candy right now." Mandy looked at Spike. Her lip gloss hadn't even smeared. Spike had blood dripping from a pretty substantial area of his body, and she hadn't so much as messed up her makeup, and the cuts and bruises she had sustained were healing or healed already. He couldn't beat her in a one vs. one fight. But that didn't mean he couldn't try. He lunged at her. For Buffy. For the Slayers. For Jade.

And Mandy caught him, by his wrist, kicking him once in the knee to lower him to the ground, then twirling with her other foot to smack him across the stomach. The action jarred his already broken and fractured ribs, and he felt blood dribble out of his lips, his own. If he had still been human, he'd be unconscious. Or dead, if he had to absorb the full force behind the Slayer-vampire's blows. As it was, with all his vampire strength, he found it very difficult to stagger back to his feet. Mandy observed, giving him the chance to stand back up. She was toying with him, a cat with her mouse. Spike had often been the cat, but rarely the frail, at mercy mouse. Mandy had been standing back from him, blinking coquettishly at him under her black clumped eyelashes, and then, in a flash, she was in front of him.

Vampire speed, which to a human could be compared to teleporting short distances—one second they were there, and the next they weren't. And even with Spike's enhanced sight, he could barely keep track of her as she zoomed forward, stopping sparse inches in front of him. She snapped her lips provocatively, and Spike curled his lip in revulsion. He jerked out his hand, and he was surprised to see that it hit its mark, curling around Mandy's neck. But she glanced back at him placidly, unbothered, almost aroused instead. She didn't see him as a threat, but as a conquest. And the soulless Spike, who had a thing for women stronger than him, maybe he'd be the tiniest bit tempted. But Spike as he was now was just repulsed. He found her a revolting thing, the one who held the life of his loved one and many others in her manicured hands. Bloody hell, the arrogance of this bint. He couldn't even play along, couldn't smirk at her, call her love and pretend to appreciate the attention. All he wanted was to tear her head off.

"This doesn't hurt, you know," Mandy dribbled out in a gush, smacking her lips. "I kinda like it. Masculine power and all that. Hot."

"Just holdin' you in place," Spike informed her, rewarded by a frown of her freshly plucked eyebrows, as the movement he had seen from behind her rose in a fury. Jade, who had relied on Spike keeping Mandy's attention, rose with a stake in her hand, plunging it into Mandy's back as Spike held her still. At least, he had tried to. She had shifted her attention quickly, so quickly, plucking the wooden stake out of the air before it could even graze her dead flesh. Mandy shoved Spike away in a whirlwind of movement, and he lost hold of her neck. He stumbled back to the ground, feeling a snapping, a pain in his arm. Broken. He remembered how long it had taken him to recuperate after getting that piano dropped on him, when Drusilla had dragged him from the wreckage, he had had months, _months_ of staying in a wheelchair. And sure, a human would have been paralysed for life, but he healed. But it had taken so long, so much uselessness. He didn't want to be helpless. But it might not even matter now, any loss of mobility. They could all die.

And is, as if to solidify the likelihood of that statement, as the Slayer-Vampire took the stake from Jade, she twisted it, sticking in into Jade's stomach, and his Slayer fell to the ground.


	54. Chapter 53

**_AN:_** _Thank you for all your follows, favorites and reviews. As I've said, I really really appreciate them and love reading them. And to LovingAnything and Cloongarvin, thank you for your reviews, I have read them, but for some reason, they aren't posting up on FF, but hopefully that'll be fixed soon. Thank you for reading, and I hope I continue to entertain._

 **53**

"Oh, look at what you made me do!" Mandy whined morosely, in her high-pitched tone, flapping her arms about. Jade could barely see it, collapsing down to her knees and clutching the stream of blood coming from her stomach. The stake had fallen out, clattering to the stone floor, drenched in maroon fluid. Blood, her blood. A lot of it. "Tsch!" Mandy continued to wail. "I said I didn't want to waste a single one. A single one. Hurry up, you idiot, and fix this." She unraveled the belt from her arm and wagged it at her so-called idiot boyfriend. She had ignored their banter as best she could. Though they fought and sounded like morons, their strength was undeniable, Mandy, Slayer inherent, and the magic Derek wielded. They were a force to fear, even if they were bumbling, teenager morons, like they were borrowed from some over-indulgent soap. Yet, with all Jade's contempt for them, she was the one with a hole in her gut. Jade didn't respond, didn't move. God, was this how it ended? Her friends and comrades, some dead, the rest unconscious. Angel, a few meters from her, Connor, subdued. And then there were the vampires reaching for Spike, just a few meters behind Mandy. He liked pain, knew how to tolerate it quite well, but she could see the blood on him, the limbs at awkward angles. There was no more he could do. There was no more any of them could do. They'd tried. Thought for a minute, they might had a chance. But they'd failed, the belt was about to work, and Jade might very well be its first participant, if she lived that long.

But all she was worried about was Spike. Mandy had said she didn't want to kill him, fawning over him like a teenager would. At any other time, Jade would understand, heck, she was that way herself. Hard to miss the alluring qualities of Spike's physical attraction, but there was so much more to it, more to him. And she had been drawn to it all. Even now, she wanted to crawl to him, as he ineffectually tried to bat away the vampires who gathered by him with his single arm. His good arm was quick enough, smashing into the leg of one of the sycophants, but with a curse and a howl, they restrained, so even his struggling didn't reward him another desperate blow.

"Look, I told you. There's only a couple minutes left. Just kill her now, and it'll be working by the time she rises." Derek threw his hands up, muttering something else under his breath that Mandy caught with a glower. Jade felt her heart beat in her chest, glancing up to the belt. As Derek said, the magic was fading, nearly gone. It was gripped in Mandy's hand now instead of wrapped around her arm, hanging in front of Jade like a hypnotizing amulet. That thing, that _thing_ was the reason for all of this. The thought of a Slayer-Vampire army. It'd be used to reduce them all to mindless automatons. And at the service of _Mandy_ , the simpering, self-absorbed narcissist. Maybe that was part of her Slayer heritage too, made worse by the demon that cleaned house and settled in. And they wanted that to happen to her. Someone take over her life, her memories. So she could be 'strong' to them. She was a Slayer. She already was strong. And yet, all she could do was sit here and hold her stomach together. She felt blood dribble down her bottom lip as she tried not to move, tried not to breathe.

"Oh, yeah? Like you said it would just be a _couple hours_ til you de-badded the thing when we first got it? Uh-huh, well we saw how that went." Mandy ignored the Slayer at her feet, for Jade was bleeding and half-conscious and barely a threat. Her shoulder still throbbed, probably shattered, bones sticking out and splintered off, piercing into her skin, her flesh. She had just mustered the strength to try to stake Mandy. The belt had been twisted away from her, so staking was the only option. And Spike had even tried to hold her still, not even betraying her by the slightest movement of his eyes. They had been a team, again, but it hadn't been enough.

"Well, I had to make the cage, bigger, now didn't I?" Derek huffed, exasperation leaking into his tone as if he was talking to a sulky child. They were both children, bickering, with the world in their palms. "That took more power, ergo, less to throw at the belt."

"Stop using ergo with me. It doesn't make you smart. It makes you a moron." She sighed, snapping her tongue as she turned back towards the vampires, a couple of which were timidly raising their hand as if a child asking permission for a question in a classroom. "What?" She snapped irritably, flouncing her long blonde curls.

"Sorry, Man—er, Goddess. What would you like us to do with these?" They gestured to Jade's fallen companions, and Spike, who still vainly struggled. He looked across to her, his blue eyes locking with hers, and in a single look, they seemed to transfer a whole conversation. That he didn't want her to die, become a Slayer-Vampire. That she didn't want him to be dust. That he was sorry he brought her into this, that she was sorry she didn't fight hard enough. That it was over.

There were things she wished she could communicate. One real, last kiss, not a quick peck on the lips. That she wasn't sorry that this was how it was ending. She wished she could communicate the tiniest bit of hope that still lingered, though it was so small, and so unlikely, and hoping wouldn't be enough to make it come to fruition. And then their eye-contact was broken, as Mandy came to her commands.

"Put them in the cage with the others, if they're still alive. I'll deal with them later, but now, now they can see the show. All the turning. It'll be marvelous." She clapped her hands together happily, flicking her wrist as if it was spasming to direct her minions.

Spike called out a furious, "Back off, you wankers," as they pulled his unwilling body away. She moved her lips to form his own name, but it was barely a wheeze, her body resisting speech. Spike was being dragged into the pit, followed by Connor and Angel. Jade saw that Illyria, with some relief, still alive, but bleeding, as she was pulled in too, along with another Wainakay demon that was missing one of his horns. That was it, that was all that was left. The field obviously allowed objects to move in but not out. Jade's eyes followed Spike, couldn't leave him. And then there was Buffy, who had been at the very edge of the captive bubble, catching him as he was tossed in, lowering him to the ground and nestling him in her arms. Angel was brought near her as well, the Slayers directing the two vampires so that Buffy could reach out and hold the unconscious Angel's hand as she propped up Spike onto her shoulder. There was intimacy there, and affection that wasn't squashed, not now. Not by their normal routine to fall into arguments, they were just people, who were holding onto their loved ones as they prepared for death. And she couldn't be there, couldn't be next to Spike, because she was the first one to go. And through her blurred vision, Spike seemed to be accepting Buffy's embrace, tilting his face up to hers, murmuring something through his lips.

Jade's heart ached, violently, for a heartbeat, even stronger than the ache in her pulsing gut. It was Buffy, then. She shouldn't be surprised, she wasn't. It had never been a contest. It was always Spike loving Buffy, with all of his heart and soul. But sometimes, sometimes, she had almost forgotten, concocting her own fantasy where their banter and smiles and looks meant something more. And it would be nice to go to her grave thinking she had someone who loved her. She had Bennett, she knew that. He had been the love of her young life, and though trying to move on from his death meant that she had tried to forget, forget how she had felt with them, what they had meant together, tried to forget and just live so it didn't hurt as badly, he had loved her, and she loved him. He'd be waiting her in the afterlife, if she even got to go there. Maybe that was for dust. But if she was just a walking body, with her soul vacated, what then? They wanted to turn her into a Slayer-vampire. Where she would just watch as her body did whatever the hell the demon that inhabited her would do. That was what Mandy and her ilk wanted, and Jade only had the slightest of hopes that that wasn't going to happen to her. Ha, as if. As she said to Spike, only hours ago, when they were playing cards in the airplane, she had rotten luck. In a whole lot of things. And that was she was depending on, luck. Luck that her amulet could do what she wanted it to. And that maybe they would live through this, in some shape or form. So if she could have ever found out if what she wanted with Spike was just that a fantasy, or some reachable point.

And in the meantime, she was just sitting there, in a growing pool of her own blood, leaving it all up to chance. Listening to the bickering of Derek and Mandy with their superficial, superfluous banter while she bled out, and Spike watched it happen. Come on, she was better than this. She wouldn't make it easy. She was a Slayer. That meant something. Meant she didn't wait for Mandy to stop her talking. Wouldn't wait for any of them. Unable to let go of her stomach, Jade rearranged her lame arm on it instead, using her now free, bloody arm to push herself up.

As hard as she could, she swung her bloody fist at Mandy. And grazed her cheek. The Slayer-Vampire, who had been completely ignoring her, turned her face back with a look of surprise and displeasure. Jade's torso ached, a deep pain that she sought to ignore. Had to ignore it, or she'd be immobilized. She was a Slayer. She swung up her knee to kick Mandy in the stomach, but this one, the girl caught easily, and with a push that had barely any of her enormous strength behind it, Mandy shoved, and off balance, Jade fell back down, the breath knocked out of her.

"Are you, uhm, trying to die faster? We were having a conversation, here. That's important in a relationship. Communication. I mean, not that I'm super proud of being in a relationship with him or anything, still. I was trying, here, hello. But I guess, if you're that eager—" God, she felt like a ragdoll. Was this how a human felt compared to a Slayer? Mandy's strength was enormous, without any effort. "Also, you smudged my blush." With her trembling arm and rubbery feeling legs, it took all of Jade's focus to stand again. It wasn't just the fact that Spike was looking on. But she had to try, at least. Fight for the right to live. And she had only one target, the belt resting haphazardly in Mandy's hand. So, get up. She stood.

"I'm not going to just let you kill yourself before I turn you. That is not happening, so stop that." Jade didn't answer. She staggered forward, swinging her good arm at Mandy, trying to mask her desire for the belt. The Slayer-Vampire side-stepped it easily, pushing Jade on the back. Jade let out a hoarse cough, feeling an iron liquid coat her throat. She staggered, just managing to keep herself upright. She didn't know if she could pull herself back up if she fell again. But still, Mandy was pulling her punches, definitely. It was like a swat, from a mother cat to a kitten. Just to warn her off, not hurt. "Are you deaf. Or stupid? Did someone hit your brain too hard?"

"Just turn her already, Mandy," Derek insisted from where he had sat himself on the bench, craning up his neck to glare at his girlfriend. "You're going to kill her by accident and feel like an idiot."

"Excuse me? You're the idiot. The belt is still all whammied up." Jade turned back towards Mandy, trying to throw out another kick, but she shook too badly, having to keep her foot firmly on the ground, lest she topple over. The blonde had looked away from her again, towards her boyfriend, falling back into their incessant chatter and arguing. Jade should have been happy for the distraction, but she was barely forming any cognizant thought as it was, her head swimming with pain. Just one focus. Get the belt. Save them all. Save Spike, don't depend on chance.

"I _told_ you, it'll be fine by the time she rises. It'll take hours. At _least_. So hurry up. She's tasty and she's spilling her precious blood everywhere." Derek sighed, rubbing his long fingers through his thick black hair.

"Fine. But if she rises before that belt is working, I'm not going to let you feed on _any_ of the other Slayers. I'll give them to Horace and Jeremiah over there." She gestured to two of the Vampires, who dressed as old as their names identified them as.

"I'm Harry." The one called Horace protested.

"And I'm, well, I'm just David." Jeremiah added.

"I'm Horace," Called another vampire, hopeful. "Does that mean I get Slayer blood?"

"Whatever! Ugh. I don't care. Shut up. Just, whatever." Shaking her head, Mandy put a halt to their clamour, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath. She ran her fingers through her curls, then shook her head, her rolled eyes slowly steadying, staring straight at Jade. "Fine. Time for munchies." She licked her lips, and then in a flash, she was behind Jade. With one arm wrapped around her, Jade couldn't move, Mandy's embrace stronger than iron, keeping her still, her other hand reaching to push Jade's head to one side, revealing her neck. Every Slayer sense of Jade's was crying out, warning her. Dangerous predator behind her. Dangerous. But she couldn't move. Struggling just exacerbated the pain in her shoulder. She heard a light growl. She had to try to move her arm, reach for that belt. Had to try, but she was struggling in vain. Mandy didn't even seem so much as annoyed by Jade's struggles, like she hadn't even noticed them. Jade could hear Mandy's growl as the Slayer-Vampire appeared to bite her neck, when then there was a protest.

"Wait!" Derek called out, and Mandy snapped her head back up towards her boyfriend in irritation. Jade couldn't see it, but she could feel the woman's body moving from how close Mandy held her.

"What? What now? You tell me to do it, so I'm doing it, and now you don't want me to?" Mandy snapped, irritation in her voice.

"She was the only Slayer they brought with her," Derek spoke quickly, knowing that his girlfriend might just be ready to snap his neck for the heck of it. "She might have taken something, to weaken whoever drank from her."

"Oh. _OH_. Hey, you do have some brains. Good call." Mandy patted Jade's cheek. "Hey, you don't have any bad tranq stuff in your blood, do you? Or poison. Oh, isn't there that killer of the dead or something. You didn't take that, did you?"

"Why don't you try it and find out," Jade answered with as much defiance as she could muster.

Mandy let out a resigned sigh. "Fine, fine. You. Davey, whatever. Come here." She snapped her fingers, and an eager Vampire came forward. "Make sure there's no bad stuff in her blood, alright?" Mandy's arm released her, hand clamping down on her injured shoulder instead. Jade wasn't able to stifle her cry of pain as Mandy's hand disturbed her agonized flesh, immobilized by the pain. She wasn't able to move, except for her free hand, which she had clutched back onto her stomach to stem the bleeding. Not that it mattered much at the moment. With glee, David vamped, licking his lips. He reached for Jade, and she brought her knee up, missing his groin but kicking him roughly in the stomach, with the piteous remaining amount of strength she had. But still, he stumbled back, and Mandy hissed in her ear. "Stop that. Honestly, Davey, she's half-drained already. Quit messing around." Another arm wrapped around Jade, slapping her stomach wound. Jade let out a cough, more blood dripping from her lips, the last of the fight drained out of her.

Then the fangs sunk into her throat, tearing through her flesh. She had never been bitten before. Had come close, very close. With Bennett, she had nearly let him, let him bite her instead of having to kill him. She struggled vainly against the pain, but then, there was a euphoria, a bliss that her body nearly cried out with need for. Anything to numb the pain, being fed upon distracted her. There was pain, yes, but not nearly as much. She could just slip away, numb. She was barely aware of the fangs being torn from her throat by a heavy shove from Mandy, her voice, though in Jade's ear, seemed miles away. "Okay, that's enough. She's like, a child compared to me, probably barely has any blood left since it's been leaking out through her stomach. So? You alright? Going to turn into a, I don't know, a decrepit puppy or something? Feel a weakness? A little tingly-tingly?"

"No," Davey said, wonder and awe in his tone. "I just feel…strength." Jade felt she almost missed the feel of it, the ecstasy had dried up, nothing but agony behind, and a growing weakness. She'd been losing blood since she had been stabbed with the stake, now, now she didn't have much left. Not much of anything. She couldn't even move her fingers, her whole body felt numb. Couldn't grab the belt that was so close to her.

"Good, good. Now back in line with the others, and don't get any funny ideas. You need a lot more than just Slayer blood to beat me." Mandy ordered. Davey hesitated, bloody still dripping down his lips, his face still vamped, yellow eyes gazing longingly at Jade's neck. She was limp now, held up by Mandy, an easy, perfect meal. But even that vampire wasn't idiotic enough to challenge Mandy's power. Like Jade and Spike and their companions had. And how well that worked out for them. She was slipping away. Trying to find Spike. And there he was, through her haze. He was near the edge of the Slayer's cell, and he was looking at her. Jade almost wished he wouldn't. Didn't want him to see her like this. Weak. Didn't want him to see what could come after. What was about to.

"Welcome to my army," Mandy whispered in Jade's ear, and sunk her fangs in.


	55. Chapter 54

**54**

He had fought with every bit of his busted up knuckles, struggled against the bloody vampires as they hauled him across the sodding ground, tossing him into the same prison as everyone else. He'd rebounded, as fast as he could, received a shock for his troubles, a bloody solid barrier he couldn't get past. Reminded him of old days, of trapped-in-a-bloody-cell-until-they-put-a-chip-in-his-head days. Lot like that, lot of swearing, calling his captors wankers, trapped in a space way too bloody small. But this time, he had company. As he staggered back from the shock of the magic-arse wall, he felt strong arms wrap around him, lithe and warm. Something was bearing him down to the ground, off his swollen knee and broken leg, and he knew without turning his head who it was. Could smell her scent, though dirtier—days of not having a shower must have been driving her crazy—feel her heart beat in her chest as his head rested in her shoulder. Buffy's arms. He hadn't been this close to her in a while, because that was what she had wanted, but now, she was using herself as a support. She was touching his chin with one of her hands, forcing his gaze up to hers.

And it was a worthy view, bloody perfect, if they hadn't been where they were. Emerald eyes shined down at him, clear and resolute, affection, for once, shining through without obscurity. Her lips were pursed in a little 'o', slightly parted, as she just gazed down at him, uncharacteristically keeping from speaking for a minute. Her blonde hair was slightly greasy, in tangled clumps that must have been driving her crazy, but it was Spike's favorite Buffy. To see her just come from a fight, dirt still on her cheek. She even had a bruise, still, one that should have healed, by now, unless they had gotten habitually tortured within the prison. More likely, it was Pretty in Pink's handiwork, and he wasn't surprised. She hit like a bloody building crashing down. If she had been _trying_ to cripple him, he might have had to reunite with his sodding wheelchair. As it was, that wasn't turning out to be likely. Getting out wasn't turning out to be likely. But in this moment, he was being held by the woman he loved, having her just look at him for one sodding moment.

"Saving the day, yeah?" He winced a bit, at the throbbing in his face, glancing up at Buffy. She stroked his injured cheek with unusual tenderness.

"I don't need rescuing," She responded with her usual girl power bit, although her gaze was soft, and she had spoke more out of a need for confidence than meaning it. She looked back at him, gentle. "Although I'd have accepted it this once." And she smiled, a light, desperate curl of her lips, and despite the danger, what might be happening to them, for a moment, he was content. He had Buffy's smile, as forced as it was, it was a attempt to smile despite what they were up against.

Then of course, he noticed one of her hands had left him, gripping the just as pale, but more still dead hand of Angel, as the Slayer accommodated to bring him to Buffy. No doubt her orders, to bring her loves to her. Loves. Reminding him that he wasn't the only one. Just a vampire with a soul that had a thing for Buffy, maybe it was a sodding side effect. But there she was, holding Spike and gripping Angel, though the great lug hadn't moved yet. At least the fact that he wasn't dust stood to reason that he'd wake. Actually knocked out, that wasn't the easiest thing to do to a Vampire. Took a lot of trauma, and well, Vampires didn't need air, so asphyxiation didn't work. He wondered for a moment, if it would be easier if Angel had been taken out of the picture, but immediately, he knew better. Buffy wasn't that fickle. Yeah, the chit didn't always know what she wanted, so she just tended to put it off until it fought back, but she wouldn't suddenly realise undying affection for Spike if Angel got offed. Probably just put her in a right terrible mood, really. No, the existence of Angel was not the reason for he and Blondie's rocky not-a-relationship, but it'd be nice if that were that easy.

Life wasn't, though. Easy wasn't in the guidebooks. He'd fought fang and bloody nail, and _still_ he was tossed in here on his arse, with every other great fighter they'd brought along. And quite a few that had been captured already. The girls, nothing left to do but wait to be turned to a super-bitch beast like Mandy, except he and the misfits, who were just at Mandy's whim. And then there was Jade. Right. She hadn't been dragged away with the rest of them. He had smelled her blood, the excess of it, remembered the taste, but it had been blocked by this shield. Yet it still flowed freely, and he tried to sit up. Maybe he could try again with the wall. Smack it enough times, that'd weaken the wicca bastard. Though, his usual reasonable mind would admit that the Slayers had probably tried, he would try again. He couldn't just leave Jade out there. And though it seemed that the outside couldn't hear those trapped within the walls, he could hear every word that they said on the outside. He tensed. They were going to turn her. Of course. That had always been a danger. That's why they had left Faith behind, the rest of the Slayers. Couldn't feed them any more soldiers. Except they had, and it was Jade. Jade. It wasn't fair to her. Trapped on that side of the wall, trying to keep her insides from falling out. He tried to sit up, but he was held still by rigid muscles that tried to keep him still. Buffy. First his support, and now his restraint.

"Gotta try the bloody wall again," He muttered. She had both hands on him now. He should be glad. Buggering Angel didn't get to hold her hand. But he wasn't, trying in vain to struggle anyway. And even if he did get past Buffy, there were all her Slayers that had nothing left to do but follow Buffy's orders, and he doubted she'd let him continue to throw himself against the wall, since it hurt like a son of a bitch each time. But still, it was Jade, and she was alone. Super-Bitch and Got-No-Balls were just arguing anyway, ignoring Jade's existence while she continued to bleed out. Wasn't right. Wasn't bloody right, and he had to do something.

"Spike, there's no point." Buffy spoke in a tone that was trying very hard to be level and reasonable. Bet she'd been doing that soldier act for a while now, ever since her and her girls were packed into this cell like cattle. Told them to hold onto hope, to wait for a chance to attack. But it was just words, just some orders to keep them from giving up, even when there was every reason to. And now, she was telling him to let it go, let Jade go. Bloody hell, even if he couldn't do anything, he still had to try. She'd do it for him. She'd do it for him. She only _came_ here to sodding help him. For the big rescue, to save the ones he cared for, not because anything was in it for her. And what had he done for Jade, exactly? Got her killed almost, way too many bloody times to count already, and here it was, about to do it again, this time for bloody real. Wasn't right. And he couldn't shake the feeling that she was only doing it for more reason than just good ol' nonexistent bloody friendship. She had kissed him. Kissed him, and he'd stood there like a sodding idiot with his brains in his feet. Because all he could think about was surprise and uncertainty, because she wasn't Buffy, and was that good or bad and he hadn't bloody known. And now he wouldn't.

"Let me up, sodding bint." He had undone the tenderness they had experienced with each other only moments before, his voice descending into a snarl, a desperate one. She was his responsibility. He couldn't watch her die. "Got to give it a go."

"No. I'm not going to let you throw yourself at the wall until you're paralyzed. Like we haven't tried. Over and over. Think that was easy for me, to watch you and Angel fight my battle for me? Not a chance. We woulda busted out of here by now if it was possible, dontcha think?" Her tone was irritated, on a short leash, but her eyes were sympathetic, softer than her brusque words. But she was being kind to him still, instead of lashing back with her snippy tongue, which only cemented the likelihood that there was no hope. A cold day in hell when Buffy wasn't taking any chance she had to play kick-the-Spike, verbally or physically.

Instead, she was holding him, almost like a lover, trying to soothe him back into acquiescence. Wasn't like her, to just sit back and admit defeat. Wasn't like him, either. He was a fighter, and though he could tell when there was a hopeless fight, sometimes that just made that more fun. But Buffy, she always believed that there was a way, the obstinate chit. Never gave up, even when there was every reason to. Fighting the First? She didn't use the word survive, she used the word win. And they had, for a little while. But though they had defeated the First Evil, there was always a Another Evil to eagerly take its place. There was always something coming up to fill the void, some kind of deplorable desire to balance. Good never won for certain, it was a never ending battle. And Buffy was always there in the thick of it. She always would be, Spike knew that by bloody now. And he'd never ask her to stop completely, all he had wanted was her to take a break, every once in damn while, with him. But that'd never happen, and so this was inevitable. Facing down death together, and being unable to turn from it. He didn't mind it for him. He'd lived a long time, been undead longer than that. He could stand it being the last time. But he didn't want it for Buffy. She was the longest lived Slayer, with a decade under her belt and he still wanted more for her. Sure, she had a lieu of accomplishments under her belt, but she never got to live, settle down like a normal girl. Which Spike had never wanted, to be a real boy, all domesticated and working nine to five. Nah, not his thing, but he knew Buffy. That was what she had wanted. Be a normal, overly girly valley girl who got to shop for shoes without worrying about the world ending. She'd never gotten that. Hell, none of these kids had.

He looked around at the Slayers. Some he recognized, some he didn't. He could observe the more solitary, lone qualities, the solo Slayers that had been captured, not part of the Organization. Some might have known what they were, some might not. Some were in their twenties, on the older side of the Slayer scale, where some were just kids, 'bout the same age as Niblet when he first met her. They were there, gaunt and stoic, dirty and bloody, waiting for their chance that they probably wouldn't bloody get, so they go like lambs to the slaughter. And then there was Connor, who was kneeling by his dad, unblinking, as he waited for his undead father to rise. His smirk was lost, a serious expression on his face. Now he knew why Angel had strongly opposed him coming along, but it was too little too bloody late. 'Least he'd be with family. And there was Illyria, resisting offers of assistance, wiping the blood from her light blue skin. She was alive, but it was more of an oversight than a lasting state of being. He doubted Mandy was the one to play nice with other chits, seeing as she was going through all this effort to make them into her bloody slaves.

He turned his helpless gaze to Jade, frustrated, but no longer struggling against Buffy. He couldn't get past the blonde, and even if he could, she was right; no getting past that wall. So all he could do was watch as, unbelievably, the Rogue Slayer lowered her shaking, bloody arm to the ground, trembling as she used it as a pillar to hold her weight and push herself up with. Mandy and Derek were bloody oblivious, more useless banter Spike had done his best to tune out. But now, he was grateful for it, moving his upper body towards her, towards Jade, as if he could break through and lend her his strength. This time, Buffy let him move, probably sensing he wasn't about to anything, as she would say it, stupid. And he wasn't. He was just watching as Jade, who he, in that moment, referred to her as 'his Slayer', rose up. She managed to stand. Managed to bloody stand. Slayer strength was part of it, resolution, that was another. He'd told Jade that before, she didn't have a single backbone in her body when it was defending her own honor, but she'd fight bloody tooth and nail for someone else. Fighting for them. Yeah, he knew it was sodding hopeless, but he was proud as a strutting peacock regardless. She wouldn't wait for the end.

And oh, he winced at how easily Mandy deflected her blows, gritting his teeth and making a 'tch' sound, shaking his head as Jade was so hardily negated, but the chit had all the gumption in the bloody world, which should have mattered more than it did. But it didn't. As soon as the blonde bitch was tired of playing, she had grasped Jade around, immobilizing her with pain and strength. And Jade, barely cried out, though she had nearly nothing left. Spike's fingers twitched. Wasn't right, for her to do this alone. It'd be happening to the rest of them soon, to _Buffy_ , and it sure hurt as hell watching this first time around. Super-bitch held Jade, letting some bloody random Vampire out of the herd come up to her. Stoic to the end, like a bloody Slayer, she held eye-contact with the Vampire until he sunk his fangs into her neck.

"Bloody hell!" Spike snapped, a force of rage and helplessness. She had stopped struggling, like most victims did. She was a Slayer, but she was only human. The euphoria of feeding—for both parties—Spike knew only so well. And the numbing of pain that followed, she must have been bloody grateful as hell for it, and he couldn't blame her. Then the lackey was backing off, and here was the final bell call. Jade's eyes, half lidded and barely focus, sought out Spike. And he couldn't do anything but stare. Nothing comforting, no words, no gestures. Just stare, like a bloody useless git. Then, Mandy, god-awful idiotic Mandy, with her bloody vamp-face, stuck her fangs in, electing to turn Jade's neck the other way around so she could start sodding fresh. It was infuriating, their use of her as a damned blood bag. Spike had done the same thing so many times before, but he had his soul. And it was Jade. He could barely stand to watch, barely registering that Buffy had one hand on his head, trying to stroke his stiff blonde hair for comfort. Then, Mandy, as the more euphoric qualities of Slayer blood kicked in, was beckoning her pathetic lover over so that they could feast together, relentless in their haste to suck the small Slayer dry. Jade was nearly unconscious when Mandy finally slowed, ripping her fangs free. With a sadistic, cloying smile, she cut her wrist and waved it in front of Jade's face.

"Want a taste? Oh I know you do," Mandy purred. She brought it to Jade's lips, and for a surprisingly long heartbeat, the near-dead Jade hesitated. Spike knew how strong the allure was. The human's instinct to fight to live, the calling of the blood, her only chance to come back. And for a heartbeat, Jade resisted. But then she, like every other, latched on, first reluctantly and slowly, and then with more fervor. The cycle was complete. And as much as Spike wished, in every second before that, that at any second, more cavalry would burst through the door, there was no-one coming. No fantasy that would save them now, save Jade. And now, as if dumping trash, Mandy opened her arms, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground. It infuriated him. Jade, who was once a living, breathing human, was now nothing but an piece of dead meat, until she rose.

Unless she didn't. Spike recalled what Jade had told him about the necklace. That it would keep her from rising again. So that was it, then. He either held onto the sadistic hope that she would be 'alive' again, in one form or another, or never come back. Either be controlled by a ruthless demon or just be gone forever, those were her bloody choices. Spike couldn't look anymore. He'd never been overly in control of his emotions, a bloody loose cannon if there ever was once, and now he rested his head in the palm of his hand. If Willow's spell worked, Jade wouldn't come back. And if it didn't, well she wouldn't be her anymore, Spike had no qualms about that. Nothing stayed. His caring, lovely mum had turned into a sex-crazed sadist. Still gave him shudders to think about. And it could happen to her, if she rose. So he hoped for the lesser of two evils; that she'd stay dead. Bloody great.

But now they'd wait, wait for her to rise. Didn't happen during the day, so if it didn't happen in the hours remaining before sunrise, they'd have to wait a whole 'nother day. That bought them time, of course, but didn't matter much. No-one coming to rescue them. Just more waiting, watching, unblinking as Mandy dragged Jade's body over to a bench and slung her there. She turned, giggling then, to her boyfriend, and after some flamboyant gestures and more giggles to her Vampires, Mandy bid them to watch the Slayers carefully and stalked off, no doubt to indulge in the full aphrodisiac qualities of Slayer blood. Fine. Get her bloody out of here. As if Spike wanted to listen to her moaning, seeing them shagging near Jade's body. Bloody unbearable. Everything was unbearable, and the waiting was the worst.

They were the longest hours of his life. He'd thought the plane ride had been a drag and a half, but at least he'd had cards and Jade to distract him. But now, he just had Buffy, trying to convince everyone that it wasn't bloody over when it was. And Angel had woken, and someone else had filled him because Spike couldn't bear to. Buffy had let go of him at some point, and he'd woven his way to the back, leaning against the rock wall. The Slayers had avoided him, letting him bloody brood as his eyes had barely left Jade's still body, where he had to bloody hope that it would never move again, as bloody unfair as it was. Illyria had sat beside him, lamenting, for a while, Mandy's stolen power, and how she thought she was a Goddess and was mistaken, and Spike was so far in his head he didn't even tell Illyria to shut her gob, just letting her inane babble fill his head so he didn't have to think, or listen.

Mandy and Derek returned after a while, coyly looking at each other, shooting looks and remarking how good Slayer blood was, and how hard it had been to wait this long to have a taste, but they had done it. Bloody bints. Spike wanted to rip their heads off and churn them into dust. He hated hearing them, hated Mandy's eventual whining that it was taking too long, which turned into incessant complaining, and then bickering with Derek to keep herself occupied.

It was by then, that the girdle had been officially de-magicked, and up to its full capacity. There was no more waiting, after they tested it on Jade, they would begin to change everyone else. The Slayers exchanged stricken looks, their last hope drained away into a void. With Mandy's wanting to test the thing, she had begun barking orders at her vampires, and soon most of them were either singing or doing incessant jumping jacks.

"Sodding torture," Spike muttered to himself.

"I will kill them all," Illyria promised, and for once, Spike wished she had been restored to her earlier strength so her words weren't just empty, wishes and horses. Be a bloody sight better than this, having Illyria with her powers and time slowing. If she had been capable of that, well he wouldn't be sitting in this goddamn cell, now would he? Wouldn't be watching Jade's dead body.

And wouldn't be watching it move.

First it was a twitch of a finger. Spike hoped he had imagined it, but he knew better. His spirit fell. So she would arise again. To be a Slayer-Vampire like Mandy. Made an ache in his chest just to think about it. She didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve to have a demon take over her strength, her thoughts, her feelings. Didn't deserve to die there, to come back. But it was sodding happening. Never bloody ended, did it? Every good thing, such a damned short life but all the bad things lived forever. Mandy, who had been making cooing sounds and giggling at her apparently brain-controlled minions, clapped her hands and with a harsh snap, told them all to be quiet.

"Our first is waking!" She shrilled with glee. "What should I make her do?" She turned her head to Derek. "More jumpin jacks? Oh, pole dancing. Damnit, why don't we have a pole?"

"You don't have anything better than that?" Derek asked with a bit of dismay, then scorn. "What if she just pretends she can do jumping jacks, moron. That's easy."

"Well… I don't have a… oh it goes red if they're brainwashed button, now do I!" Mandy called back, distressed. "Hey, you'd tell me if you weren't brainwashed, wouldn't you?" She cooed at one of the vampires.

"Of course, Goddess." It answered in a monotone.

"There. Don't you see? It worked on the vampires," She nodded back curtly, towards Derek.

"He could be pretending too. Or, if you really _aren't_ paranoid, then—" Derek was rolling his eyes, and the Rapunzel bitch turned her head away with a huff, curling her arms under her chest.

"Just shut up! Shut up. I am brilliant, you know!" She shot back, stiffening, as expecting an earful. When she didn't get it, she turned back towards her idiotic half, seeing that he was quite silent, and joy spread over her face. "Oh!" She called out happily. "That's right. That is right. I got the belt, I got the powah. Now you can't yell at me anymore." Finding that a happy conclusion, she turned back expectantly to Jade's twitching corpse.

"Sodding bints," Spike hissed under his breath. Of all the people to best them, they were all power and not a drip of intelligent in their craniums. As if it never occurred to the sodding boyfriend that _he'd_ be controlled as well. After all, it was likely that he was only there because he wielded more power than an ordinary vampire, with his magics and all. But now Mandy had her strength, his magic and his will. Sodding perfect. Miss Priss could rule the world.

"Hurry up," Mandy began whining to the moving corpse, that Spike had to stop calling Jade because it wasn't her anymore. Wasn't her, even as her chest began to rise and fall, out of habit rather than necessity. She was pale, even more than normal, and the blush on her cheeks that Spike had come to expect was gone from her cheeks, just a pallid tone remaining, whites and yellows and a light blue. The bruises on her body had healed, cuts were dissipating. From where her hair parted, fanned out and draping beneath her, he could see that the bite marks on her neck were gone as well, where the vampires had devoured her greedily and carelessly. Sodding hell. But then, there it was, she sat up in one smooth motion, her blue eyes finding Mandy. Still blue, her vampire face not yet taking affect. There was a look of fury, and Mandy, remembering just in time, had flounced back a step, tying the belt effectively around her torso.

"S-stop. Stop." Mandy said, first uncertainly, then with a shrill confidence as Jade quit moving, looking at her with the same acrimony in her expression. The demon didn't like being ordered around, especially not one with the contempt and narcissism of a Slayer, although those were traits that Jade had demonstrated to a lesser scale compared to her fellow sister Slayers, at least in Spike's opinion. She had been humble and giving, and now she was a corpse waiting instruction. "Now. You're under my control, aren't you? Don't lie."

"Under control, Mistress." Jade spoke, but it wasn't her voice at all. No inflections, no emotion, just deadpanned.

"Goddess." Mandy corrected, though a victorious smile was twisting her simpering lips. She placed her hands on her hips, prancing around like a pony. "Show me your true face, minion."

Jade looked at her calmly, bitterness and resentment still hiding in her blue eyes and then they weren't blue any more. A bright yellow, a sight that used to be normal, almost comforting to him, and now filled him with nothing but dread, as her pale forehead was over-taken with bumps, and her fangs were displayed prominently. Spike rubbed his hands violently against his own forehead. He saw, through the Slayers, Angel and Buffy were looking at him, Angel with sympathy and Buffy's, more carefully tucked away.

"I'm sorry Spike," Angel said, quietly, as if he'd be the one to bloody comfort Spike. "I know that you—"

"You don't know bloody anything," Spike protested hotly. "Just piss off." He glanced to Buffy as he said it, whose lips had opened to say something, but she closed it firmly, the tiniest of nods as she deemed not to say anything at all. And he yearned to yell at her, in that moment. Tell her that she never liked Jade anyway, so if she was going to pretend to be all broken up she could bloody stuff it, but words caught in his throat. He didn't expect to feel this way, this bloody empty.

"Oh, lovely. Okay, okay, Derek. You can stop glaring at me. You may speak again. For now." Mandy sighed, sending a look of impatience at her partner.

Derek's face, which had been directing a glower at her, was now forced to drop it, although he regained his voice all too quickly. "H-Hey, you can't use the belt on me, that isn't fair!"

"Who said we played fair, baby?" Mandy directed back, her lips drawn in a wicked smile. "Besides, I can do what I want now. Got my first lieutenant," She gestured to the still sitting Jade. "Now, do that shock thing you do so that we can get the real second in command." Her eyes centered on Buffy. Spike felt that ache in him double in size. Oh God, no. He'd watched it happen to Jade, now he got to watch it happen to Buffy, too? His momentary hope that if they expected to get anyone out of this cage they'd have to lower it faded with the confidence in Mandy's voice. Obviously, that hadn't been one of the many things the idiot couple _had_ overlooked.

He didn't have much time to think on it, for suddenly the wall was gone, but before any of them could move, an incapacitating shock shot through him, and from the cries and grunts around him, he knew it was happening to all of the captors. Through his blurred eyes he could just barely make out Jade, walking among the Slayers and pulling Buffy, who couldn't resist the pain or Jade's massive strength, and Angel, who was trying to force himself off his knees, was shrugged aside as if he was paper. Jade pulled Buffy from the other Slayers, and then the pain was gone, the wall sliding back up. Trapped again. Watching, this time, Buffy stand before Mandy and Derek, held here by Jade, who stood still, the unwilling servant. Derek and Mandy looked upon Buffy as if she was their next meal. And she bloody was. Spike's Buffy.

"Any last words?" Mandy asked, licking her lips.

"Yeah. Your dress is terrible, your hair is messy and your make-up, don't get me started," Buffy sassed, bringing out her younger, valley girl side for one last snarky defiance. Oh god, his Buffy. For the last time. Then she'd be like Jade. A Slayer-vampire. A soulless Slayer Vampire.

"Ew. Rude. And I'm sorry I asked. Ugh. Hey. You. I get first bite, remember?" She snapped at her boyfriend, who, while he still couldn't frown, managed a sigh that filled in the blanks. "And hold her still," Mandy said in a sing-song voice to Jade as she leaned in towards Buffy. Spike couldn't watch, but he couldn't look away either. Connor had a hand on his father's back, trying to comfort him, and Illyria was staring at Spike, unsure of what to do to deal with his grief. He couldn't look. But he did anyway.

Saw Mandy vamp. Saw her fangs come out.

Saw her lean towards Buffy.

Saw it happen so slowly, each and every detail. Waited for his ex-lover to call out and succumb.

Watched Mandy's fangs brush Buffy's bare neck.

Didn't get to see them sink in.

Didn't get to see them sink in, because suddenly, there was a blur of awesome speed. As if in two places at once, Jade had released Buffy, sidestepping to the jealous Derek. Her fingers flat, she had shoved it at brutal speed and wicked strength, straight into Derek's larynx. Her other arm, which had snatched out to steady his shoulder, kept him from moving backwards as her hand went _through_ his neck, severing his head from his body. Before it could topple to the ground, there was dust. In the same instant, Jade had twirled back, wrapping an arm around Buffy's torso and swinging her away from Mandy, leaving Jade inbetween her and the Super-bitch. Those things had happened in a span of a heartbeat, with Mandy, confused, perplexed and then shocked.

Then, in the span of her confusion, the barrier shimmered, and then fell. Silence emanated through the cavern, Slayers and Vampires, for one moment, stricken with surprise. And then that spell was over as well, the Slayers jumping to their feet, vampires jumping to the offensive, and through the clamour, Spike could see Jade shoving Buffy back away from her and Mandy, yelling, "You get the vampires; I've got Mandy."

She wasn't under their control. She was still there. How? He had no idea. He must have been loopy, driven barmy by Mandy's insane bloody banter to see Jade there, somehow protecting the Slayers as she moved in on the other Slayer-Vampire. How did this happen? He was bloody raring to find out. But first, they had a fight to win.


	56. Chapter 55

**55**

Fading, faded, gone.

A very encompassing darkness, that swallowed up the pain, the agony, the fears.

And

All

It

Left

Was

Nothing.

She was gone. Dead. Her body was just that, a body. Held nothing. She slipped into the recesses, into the gone world. About to slip away, so something else could take her place. Souls did not stay among the living, their place was in the beyond. Not good beyond, bad beyond, just gone beyond. She glimpsed into it once, or it had glimpsed into her. Starting with a tear that would have ripped her in two, so that the spirits could reach forward. She was heading there now. That was what spirits did, even the ones that longed to stay. Nothing held them back, but shooed them away.

 _Not welcome here_ , it whispered. _Time to go_.

So she expected to be pushed along, out and away. Something was coming, something dark and consuming, and all her directions were telling her to leave before it got there, because it wasn't something to be fought. She was dead; she had no place here. But this had been waiting, expectant. With glee, it would cross dimensions, hungrily and eagerly speed towards the vessel that was open to it.

 _My turn now_. It said.

No, she wanted to say, if there were words, if she had lips. If she wasn't anything but a non-corporeal thing. How could she have thought without a brain? How could she have feeling without a heart? Not that feeling came from the heart, the heart was just an organ. It was an expression. How did she know of expression?

And why did she linger here, when the beyond beckoned? Not beckoned, but reached out with its tendrils, threatening to latch on and pull her to where she was supposed to be. Not here, that time had passed. This was the way of things. She couldn't come back, but something else could. Something nefarious and abominable, something that would corrupt what she left behind.

And she didn't want it to.

But want was a very ineffectual thought, because it wasn't about want. Or choice, or anything. She wasn't the first soul who wanted, very much, to stay in their body. It didn't work like that. Desire, longing, yearning. That would not keep a spirit tethered, when the ways of what reached forward to cut the cord. It was always this way. It was a full death, a real death, one she would not return from. Time to go, time to move on. It reached out to wrench her away, something that had not been met with any force before, simply because it was not done. It was a cycle that had been done billions of times before, although not always with this darkness lingering, waiting to conquer what had been left behind. It surged forward with hunger, and she was to go.

It reached around her, tugging at her, insistently and impatiently. She should surrender, for there was nothing holding her back.

But then there was.

A tug. A stubborn, light reminder. The smallest lights in the darkness.

And it was not impressed, for magic had been tried, and despised, for it tainted the natural order of things, for it tried to halt the taking of this soul, and that should not be, and the other who was waiting to slip in was not please.

 _My turn now._ It said again, seething acrimony, its irascibility a vicious thing. It did not like that she stayed, that the tendrils, though they pulled her away from her tiny light, did not do so quickly, not as it should. That she remained, stubbornly, grasping to her grounding totem.

I want to stay. The thought was compounded and vivid, spreading and shouting, if things could shout. The little light was more than a delaying factor, it was a hope. So she clung to that hope as vigorously as she would have in life. I want to live.

But living wasn't an option. It wouldn't return her body to what had been. Its time had passed. So then, would take to mean that her time had also passed. That was what the malevolence believed.

 _I am Van-Tal._ It hissed, as it settled around the edge of her tiny light, lingering in the darkness and being the darkness, so much so that the tendrils that fought to pull her away could have come from it. But the darkness wasn't always part of the cycle, though it had been, from time to time. It was here now, and it was not happy. There should not be this wait. It needed time to settle in, to take over its new prize, and the obstinate spirit and her pathetic light were wasting its time. Wasting its time, because eventually it would win; it always had before. Not this one, for it had never yet claimed a body, but knew of the tales, knew of its purpose. To travel from its element to this one, through the channel that had been provided; blood and death. A sequence that was not run often enough, so that there were always more like it waiting in the emptiness of their dimension, an endless supply of darkness that were ready to take bodies like the one supplied here. Yet it was first, this was its', it had been the only one to come claim, and now it was resisted.

 _Your pathetic resistance means nothing to me. Your kind are too weak. Leave now, or I will consume you._

The light flickered. She felt a surge of panic, but it was still there, the little light on again, but dimmer. The darkness was pressing against it, seeking to smother. Tendrils were wrapped around her, seeking to pull. She felt pressure in all directions, and only a very small tug coming from her light.

But that was where she clung to the most.

 _No soul can resist the Van-Tal. You cannot return, but I can. I will._

She couldn't come back because she was dead. Her spirit was supposed to flee, but she didn't want it to. And all that kept her there was the anomaly, the little light that should not be, that had never been there before. It was just a fluke, and she should ignore it. It would only lead her to defeat. Once the darkness reached her, and it would, she would be snuffed out, if she did not leave beforehand. The tendrils wrapped around her pulled, as if to remind her of the truth of that. Time for her to leave. It was not her place.

The light was a betrayer, making her think that she should stay. It would have her be annihilated as a sick, perverse form of entertainment.

 _Let go._ It bade her, for a moment, losing its vitriolicism. Its tone was sweeter, persuasive. Knew her resolve was failing, her trust in her anchor was decreasing. Fading, like her light. It was very dim now.

She had wanted to stay. But she wasn't mean to. No, she was meant to be taken away. It was the place of things. She couldn't—shouldn't fight against it. Shouldn't be vengeful or angry. Shouldn't want to stay.

But why had she?

As she went to let go of her light, to surrender to her tendrils. Why? Seemed such an arbitrary question. She hadn't thought much on it. She wasn't much on thought, she was just feelings. Something gnawed at her, telling her to stay, but it was everything around her that was telling her to go. So why did she feel different? What was so important? Why?

She tried to think. Tried to form images. Why, why, why, why? Why did she linger here when she ought to go? Why did she have the light. Why was it did it seek to keep her there, a small planet with its own gravity. She didn't have answers to those questions, but her first thought was Spike.

Oh, he didn't keep her there, he wasn't the ball of light, but he was the reason for her stubbornness. Why she clung to the ball instead of ignoring it. She felt a rush of emotion. Everything she had ever felt for him, it washed over her. The ball of light grew lighter.

The darkness hissed, patience gone. No longer did it want to be the carrot, luring her away. It would consume her, then. It pressed on the gates with increasing vivacity, but she did not waver.

She was exploring her memories of Spike. He was her strongest anchor, but there were more. Senses of duty, of obligation. To protect the weak or the helpless. A small peg, but one nonetheless. There were more. Some were things, some were people, all flowing in of their different accords. Spike was the strongest, the first and foremost. Then there was those most familiar to her, Eddie and Lyth. Children at the orphanage. Sophie. Then after Sophie, there were the Slayers, Kennedy, Vi. Buffy, even. With Buffy came a feeling of jealous, of rivalry but it was a feeling nonetheless. One that brought her closer to staying. Then there was more acquaintances, those she could have been closer with, had she more time. Giles, Gwen, Gunn. Then there was Willow.

Willow. With a rush of understanding, she thought of the witch, and remembered. Remembered their conversation, things that had been said and things that hadn't.

 _Focus. I have something I need you to do. There's a demon, back in Haven. She said it would help. It's pretty obscure…_ Jade's voice, her sentences jumbled together. But now there was more. Instead of an image to show to Willow, she only had words. _It houses a soul, inside the bauble, to be worn like a necklace._

 _What's that?_ It was Willow's answering voice. _That's a, it's like the Muo-Ping. Like a jar, but smaller. I've never seen this before. Can't it work? Oh, it's a storing unit, like a mobile soul._

 _Yeah._ Jade again, her voice, her feelings, answering Willow. _When the soul leaves the body, it captures it. And keeps it there. Like having an organ on the outside. But the soul remains. The demon doesn't take over. Kind of an odds thing. Not definite._

 _Then why,_ Willow's voice asked. _Why hasn't it been tried before? You're not planning on trying this, are you?_

 _As a last resort_ , Jade had promised. And here they were, on the precipice of last resorts, the edges of the beyond. _It's been tried before. The success rate, however, I think that's why it was abandoned. It's chance. It probably won't work. And believe me, I don't want to have to try it._

The little light. That was Willow. Willow's magic, tugging at her. The effect of the necklace around her—around her body's neck. It was reaching for her soul, trying to tug it back before it left. But it was no overwhelming force. She hadn't realised reaching back for it would be like wading through molasses. It was so hard to resist the tendrils, the darkness as it encroached around her. What had she wanted then, the ease of it? For it to do all the work for her, to simply coach her back into her body and let her live again?

She clung to the light. It was brighter, she'd let it pull her in, keep the darkness out. The shadow was all around her now, fierce and angry.

 _You need me,_ It reminded her. _I am the strength. You are nothing._

It wasn't wrong. The darkness was what provided her body with strength, with abilities beyond her reach, and it was those that she needed, otherwise she was returning to the same fate. A spirit trapped in unmoving flesh. If she had a form, she would have shuddered, but instead, uncertainty followed her anxiety. Why would she think this was successful? She needed the darkness, the Van-Tal.

So take it with her. It controlled the darkness, but she was the light. She could not resist the malevolence, but maybe she did not need to. There was no good without the evil. It would smother her here, but in her world, her body, she could control it. Take its power. Its strength, her will.

Fiercely surrounding her ball of light, she then relented. Felt the shadows crash in, no longer around her, but through her. Hungrily, greedily, it sped towards its destination, her body, in the world of corporeal things. Finding no resistance, the shadow did not stop at her light, noting only with slight annoyance that it was still there, not snuffed, but as it no longer repelled it, Van-Tal surged forward. It would find true strength in its body, now it need not concern itself with the small things. Did not care that the ball moved along with it, did not notice her, for it assumed that she had been absorbed into him, as happened to things that stood before the floods and did not run.

 _Finally,_ the malevolence whispered. Out of shadows, and into flesh. It sunk into the corpse, nestled in the blood that remained, the blood with the tint of its kind, the essence of Val-Tal that welcomed it in. _Finally, finally_ , it proclaimed with glee. The body was its', and now it filled it, filled the void behind, the strength, senses, filled the undead corpse with the power of its kind. Soon it would give itself a name, soon it would conquer, for the body given to it had such strength of its own, and it was not lucky, but deserving of it, and it would be invincible.

But for the small light that had tagged along, that had been there all along, resting, protecting the small body, and the struggle that had happened in another dimension rested here, in the small bauble resting on the body's chest, hidden by clothing, but for the smallest bump, and in that bump was the light, and in that light was Her. She had let the shadow, the darkness, the Van-Tal invade the body. She had let its do it work, but she was still there. Protected by the light and by herself, she remained.

And she remembered her name, and it was Jade. And she remembered the name of the body that now twitched as the power surged through it. And she remember what it was like to control it herself. And she was still there, kept by her will and by magic. And since she existed, since she was there, the soul of the body she inhabited, she reached out, testing her control. A finger twitched, the one that she had chosen.

Wrath then, anger and a blinding fury, as the Van-Tal perceived her, realised she was there, had always been, that while he had been invading her body, she had been waiting. That it had done what she had wanted it to. But she, the Soul, remained. And it, the Demon, could not. It roared, betrayed, clinging bitterly and fervently to the dead remains. It wanted this power, the power of the Slayer and the power of the Vampire, and it had brought the Vampire, but that what she allowed, for she could not exist without it anymore, since her body was dead, she needed the demon. And she had coaxed it in, and now sought to banish it, banish it to the role of observer, and it snapped at her as any cornered animal would. It fought back against the Soul, but she did not flinch, she stood steady, testing out her control. Another finger moved, curling. Desperate, the Demon could only fling thoughts at her, threats and promises.

 _I will be here. I will always be here. Lingering, waiting. In your weakness, I will strike. When you lose control, I will be there._

She hesitated, but did not falter. She would not fear its words, would not let it turn her back after she had come so far. She waded through the thick darkness. It was wearying, exhausting, and it pushed back at her. But she had magic, and she had her Soul, and the demon could not control the body while the Soul was present. It was why death was needed, an empty vessel to be filled. But this vessel was not empty, and so the demon, the Van-Tal, the vampire was pushed out. It was not gone, but now invalid. It had been scorned, spurned what had been rightfully its, had been betrayed and used for its power, and now it huddled here, within but not in control, the barest of whispers, and it would use its whispers, but now it was not heard, lost in the roar of her own Soul, set back in the place where it belonged.

 _You will not escape my revenge,_ it promised, as it was swept into the darkest corner, where everywhere else shone the light.

Jade opened her eyes.

She sat up. Oh god, her mind was a mess. Twisting and things like memories, and she felt like she had been pulled out and then shoved back in, and her whole body hurt even as it was put back together. Pain was one of the first feelings that had returned to her, as her body snapped and remade itself, healing the damage that had been done to it. She was alive. It was her, actually her. There was no demon, taking over her. Her mind was her own. She was alive, it had worked.

Except she wasn't alive. No heartbeat, no breath. She stopped the moving of her chest; it wasn't necessary. She had died. Actually died. She wasn't human anymore, she was a dead thing. A vampire. Yet it was still her, even if she waited. Maybe that was how it felt in the beginning, as if they were still what they had been, and then the demon came out. But there was nothing. No lack of conscience. She was herself, exactly as she had been. Except not quite. She was dead. And there, in her sight, which was more detailed and exquisite than ever before was the reason for it. Mandy, the abomination such as Jade, a Slayer who had fought the demons and then become it, was grinning at her, a simpering, victorious smile.

And oh, how Jade hated her. She had never hated anything so much as she had now, not even her sister, for perhaps that had been mixed with a desire for familial love, but there was nothing here but pure hatred and anger. She was dead, dead because of Mandy. Mandy had declared herself the winner, and Jade was a forfeit. And Mandy would not stop with Jade, she'd seek to turn them all into soul-less abominations, become their own anathema, what they had fought with their very blood and bone. And damnit, that was what Jade was. Yeah, she was herself, although she didn't feel the same, she felt hollowed out, as if something of her was missing, as if something of her was gone, because she had become what she hunted, a vampire. And so easily, she might have become what Mandy was. Detestable, repugnant. And Jade despised her with her entire being, hated the arrogant triumph on her face because she didn't deserve it.

Mandy hadn't won. And she wouldn't.

Jade hadn't known how much time had passed, but she was relieved to realise that Mandy had stuck to her paranoia, that there were no other Slayer bodies tossed around Jade, waiting to rise. She was the first. Jade sucked in a breath she did not need. She'd be the last. She felt the power in her body as it moved with her, the muscles that tensed and yearned to tear off Mandy's head, let that simpering smirk fall to dust. But she remembered what she was here for, what she had to pretend. Mandy had yelled stop, and Jade had, in the way only a vampire could. Complete, stock-still, no breathing, not even a single twitch of her rigid muscles. There was no straining, the way a human body would protest to the unnatural stillness. It was odd, and not quite as easy as it would be to an experienced vampire, but she had such control over her muscles, her body, so that it would only move if she willed it to, that she could freeze so completely.

Jade could not move herself, not without giving it away, so her eyes, which had stuck on Mandy as if scoping out a target had remained there, and Jade let her glare carry all her enmity, as if she could turn Mandy to dust just by staring. But she had to wait. If she fought now, against Mandy and her Witch boyfriend, Jade would lose, none of the Slayers available to help her. No, she had to have patience. When Mandy bade her to speak, she did. When she demanded Jade's 'true face', her vampire-face, Jade wanted to rebel so badly. She wanted it, somehow, to be unavailable to her, as if somehow, she was better than a vampire. But she knew how, instinctively, in fact, she had almost been holding it back. So now, because she had to, and hating herself for it, she let it come out. The face of a vampire, her face. Ridges formed on her forehead, her teeth became longer and sharper, and her eyes, as well as they had seen before, saw even clearer now.

And she did not look away from the object of her hatred, Mandy. She memorized every line, every curl. She had changed in the span of the time it took for Jade to turn, now in an immaculate pink pant suit, her hair combed. Not a trace of the battle that had taken place, while Jade's body was still healing it. Quickly, more quicker than it would as a Slayer, but regardless, Mandy had not a scratch on her, while Jade's companions had taken that and worse. Her companions.

Spike. She hadn't so much as looked at him, only the barest of thoughts. She had been consumed by her vitriol, her resentment towards Mandy, that she had nearly forgotten. Spike. She couldn't turn her head, not even the barest of movements, lest Mandy see her, but she could sense him, whether it was her Slayer senses, her Vampire senses, or something combined, he was still there, and she felt relief, relief so compelling, for a moment she had forgotten her anger, overwhelmed with consolation. Her world still included Spike, and so this had become more than revenge on Mandy, but a desire to reunite and to protect. Not just him, but those around him. The magical barrier, still erected, kept Jade from sensing them all clearly, kept her from hearing and smelling, but with him at the forefront, she would protect them all.

Then, before her eyes, the wall came down. Jade was struck with many sensations then, hundreds of scents, of blood, of fear, some she recognized, some she didn't. The missing field replaced by a more horizontal field that struck all the prisoners at once, inflicting them with was the Vampire-witch's doing; he held the power there. And it was with that, a plan began to form. She would fight back at Mandy by not attacking her first at all, but take away her advantages. The first and foremost was Derek.

"You, my little worshipper." Mandy had turned back towards Jade, who found it hard to focus. She could feel the tremors of all those bodies moving at once. At least Mandy's ilk, her vampires, were holding still, so very still, that they had little to distract Jade with, nothing but a underwhelming aroma. But Jade had to fight past it, to listen to the words that came from Mandy's lips. "Go in there and get Buffy out and bring her to me. And make it snappy."

She couldn't feign ignorance; nor was she asked to speak. Jade felt an ache in her chest where her heart would once move. Of course it would be Buffy, but it didn't change things all that much. She was determined to not let a single Slayer-Vampire be made to Mandy's delights, and Buffy was as good as anyone to save first. She just hoped she _could_. If she made a mistake, if Buffy was killed, even if all the others were saved, Spike would never forgive her, and that wasn't a scenario she could live with. She had to be perfect. So she walked in with a rigid, almost robotic like stalk, waltzed amongst her comrades and sister-Slayers. She spared only a second of a glance towards her white-haired vampire, who was clutching in pain like everyone else, though it was the sight of his agony that bothered her the most. And then she couldn't spare another glance, another second, because if she delayed, even by a little, Mandy could suspect, and Jade couldn't take that chance. Angel, struggling Angel tried to slow her, tried to stop her maybe, but his fingers could barely even curl around Jade's ankle, wish she freed without missing a step. Jade lifted up Buffy's prone, writhing body, surprised by how easy it was. Sure, Buffy wasn't heavy and she couldn't struggle, and though Jade could have lifted a body with some effort as a Slayer, this took no exertion. She was carrying, and then dragging Buffy from the throng of bodies, and as they left the threshold, the wall went back up, and the pain stopped. Jade couldn't show any relief, but she felt it, vehemently and throughout the whole of her body, when the shrieks stopped, including Spike's. Although then there was that void again, where she could no longer hear Spike, smell him, along with those trapped behind the barrier with him.

When the pain stopped, Buffy had struggled, though it was as hopeless as Jade's against Mandy's had been. The blonde slayer's bucking was no more than an annoyance, but Jade respected Buffy for it regardless. Hadn't she done the same thing? It was impossible to stand up to Mandy, but she had tried. Had her very blood falling from her gut, her insides threatening to spill, and though the past wounds were now mere aches, Jade still felt them. Her time inert, where she had not yet turned, but in the process, she had been healing, so that even the scars that had marred her neck were gone, and the deep gaping wound in her stomach had sealed up, still giving her pain, but no longer threatening to tear at each movement. She was healed as much as she was about to be, Jade knew her time was running out. Whatever she had to do she had to do quickly. So as she pushed the noncompliant Slayer over to the triumphant Mandy, she swiveled her body towards Derek. Jade's eyes were free, still tainted by her vamp-face's clarity, and she focused them on Derek, watching every movement, honing in the for the kill. She'd only have one chance.

She stopped in front of Mandy, holding Buffy still and captive. Buffy didn't say a word to Jade, not anger or sympathies, turning the whole of the energies towards Mandy, who thought herself a Goddess. She'd learn, and quickly, and it would be a wickedly good feeling to show her. Buffy spoke what she thought were her last words, and she said them without fear. Jade was wondering if she could warn the blonde before hand, tap something into her back, but she couldn't risk it, couldn't risk her reacting badly, so Jade held still as a statue. Jade saw Derek's displeased look when Mandy came closer. Jade tensed. Not yet, not yet. Mandy had to be completely distracted. Had to be ready for the kill. Be close enough to nearly taste Buffy's blood beneath her skin. And then there, in the last split of a second, when Mandy thought she was about to taste her next prize, Jade lunged for her target. Not with her fangs, as a vampire might, but with her hand, flat and straight as a sword blade, she had no wooden stake so she went for the head. She severed Derek's head from his body in one blow, saw the dust explode into the air, and then returned to Buffy, wrenching her protectively away and using her own body as a protective shield between Buffy and the enraged Slayer-Vampire.

Jade ignored Mandy's fury for one long second, hoping and begging as she glanced back towards the barrier that housed the Slayers and Spike. And watched it dissipate, as she hoped it would, with Derek's death. There it was. Mandy's power wasn't just that she was a Slayer-Vampire. It could only have taken her so far. It was the magic of her boyfriend that had set her apart, for he had been a powerful witch. Had being the important word. He was gone now, and Jade had done what she had hoped—brought the fight on equal terms. Slayers against Vampires, Slayer-Vampire against Slayer-Vampire.

Jade barely had time to push Buffy away before Mandy fell upon her, enraged and lusting for revenge. And Jade was more than happy to meet her, wanting vengeance of her own. This was the one who had captured her and her companions, this was the one who had killed her. Had turned her into a vampire. Jade didn't consider her her sire, didn't consider her anything but one more vampire to turn to dust. But she had no stakes, as were the problems with the Slayers that fled their cells. Yeah, they were on equal, if not more population than the vampires, but the Slayers weren't armed, and all the Vampires needed were their fangs. With a screech from Mandy, they lunged to meet their captives, roaring and growling in a mixture of blood and dust. There were a couple of stakes around, somewhere, the ones that Jade and her comrades had brought, but where they had gone since Jade had been turned, she didn't know. Kicked off to the side, or rolled away, forgotten, all she had were her fists.

But not her fangs. Able to exert a will of her own, Jade had let her vamp-face recede, so Mandy could look at who really had defied her. Blow for blow, awesome strength and power behind each strike, the two Slayer-Vampires struck at each other with growing intensity, all but flying around the room. And they could, or at least Jade could jump more than she ever had before, belaying up into the sky and then back down to meet Mandy. And at least, for the most part, Mandy was focused on her with a single, blinding rage, ignoring the Slayers around them. And so Jade ignored the vampires, so she didn't give Mandy the idea to fight anyone but Jade.

"This was supposed to work!" Mandy huffed in a loud, whiny tone as Jade hit her so hard she flew back into the wall. She recovered by the time Jade had jumped over to her, kicking Jade viciously in recompense. It hurt, more than staggering her, forcing Jade down to her knees over the very impact of it, but she rolled to avoid the accompanying punch, landing a hard elbow in Mandy's chest, not too far above Hippolyta's girdle which Mandy had belted there. "You were supposed to be all controlled!" Mandy whined.

It was then that Jade realised Mandy didn't know why the belt hadn't worked on her, or just that it didn't, as the younger blonde had suspected it might not, simply because Jade was a Slayer-Vampire. But Jade knew, knew because she remembered that the belt controlled the soul-less. And then, with ardent instead of caution, borne out of a need to make Mandy suffer, suffer in pain for what she had done and tried to do, Jade reached into the collar of her own shirt and pulled out the necklace.

Not a necklace, but her soul. Where there had been a opaque bauble, there was now a shining, white wisp contained within the glass, small, and shining but there. Captured by the talisman, and contained to her body while she wore it, Jade displayed it for Mandy, and really, anyone else to see. "Your belt controls the soul-less," Jade shouted, her tone taunting, a fierce ridicule to show Mandy how she had been outsmarted. "This is my soul." If it was idiotic to display it so flamboyantly, Jade didn't care. She wanted Mandy to know, out of Jade's own arrogance and hatred, and so she held it in her hand, the small bauble that seemed so fragile, but shone out. "Come and get it, bitch."


	57. Chapter 56

**56**

This, he could enjoy. Not getting the sodding pants beaten off him by some over-powered bint, but here, among his own kind, it was determined by will, not just strength alone. Wanting something badly enough could win a fight, even against a stronger opponent. Alright, so that had been sod against Pinkie the Bitch, but it had been true enough from time to time. Only a couple years ago now, he had won a fight against Angel. The first fight he had _ever_ won against Angel, in over a hundred years of knowing the git. And it hadn't been because of some magical edge, no, it had been on equal bloody grounds and Spike had won. Won because he had wanted it more. And it hadn't even been over Buffy, but about the Shanshu bloody prophecy, which he considered codswallop now. But he had wanted it at the time, wanted a purpose, and thought that the Shanshu was it. 'Course, he was wrong, but just thinking it had been enough at the time. He had wanted some reason for being brought back, some reason he had to walk on the Earth again, tormented by his blood-tainted soul and no purpose. So he had tried to steal Angel's, but he didn't want it any more. Hell, he didn't particularly know what he wanted. Sure, redemption was in there somewhere, not that he found it attainable. It was just there, something he had to always work towards, some way to atone, so the man that was once William Pratt wouldn't go crazy over all he'd done. Had to work towards something good.

So he was here, with his busted knuckles and knee, broken arm and leg, fractured ribs, giving it all he could give towards the vampires. He fought for a lot of things. To turn them to dust before his eyes, because it felt bloody good, to save Buffy, who was somehow, still blissfully and completely human, fighting with her finesse and speed, using creativity and teamwork to burst down the vampires without a stake in her hand. And then there was Jade. One second she was there, one second she wasn't. They were rocking the whole bloody cavern with their antics, jumping even higher than Spike—than Angel, and pounding into each other with as much force as they could muster. Spike was fighting for her, too. Because he had to find out, just _how_ , _how_ she was fighting for them, although he had never seen her looking so cold as he did now, striking out with a deadly accuracy, none of her usual restraint, striking at Mandy for everything she was worth. And he wanted to help, because, damn, he had his own bone to pick with that bitch, but he knew, regrettably, that he'd be getting in the bleeding way. And it was obvious, at least to him, that even through her fury, Jade was doing all she could to steer the fight _away_ from the Slayers, so that they didn't get caught up in the crossfire.

So win the fight down here and bloody help her out. He was doing his part, though damn Buffy was keeping close to him, as if afraid for his damned safety. Noticed she wasn't babysitting Angel, though he had Illyria by his side, as they shrugged off their earlier injuries to throw themselves into the fray. Well, wasn't so easy to shrug off broken bones, now was it? He was doing all he could, but that didn't mean he needed a bloody safety net. Yet Buffy would dance in and dance out of her own volition, because even though she seemed slightly starved and tired, she was mostly unhurt, playing her damn white hat protector bit. As it was, it gave Spike more leeway to watch Jade instead, as the Slayers surpassed Spike's pace, faster and stronger than he was, for most of them didn't have broken bones. Some were more badly hurt, and they remained within the area of the cell, as ordered to by Buffy. No-one had been near-death, though that was likely on purpose. Mandy had turned Jade first because she had been afraid of losing one of her Slayers, though that didn't seem to be working out for the Slayer-Vampire bitch, now had it? She was fighting tooth and nail against Jade, who was giving it all she had.

She was slower than Mandy, by enough, and she was favoring some of her body that hadn't quite healed, although Spike was paying closer to Jade than Mandy had, and it didn't look like Mandy had tried, or known to exploit Jade's weak spots. Not to mention, they were laying on a hell of a lot more wounds with every strike. Sure, they were both tougher, thicker skin or whatnot, but they both hit harder too. Mandy seemed stronger, likely because of her advanced vampire age, though it was only a year, and likely because she had guzzled Jade's blood beforehand, and it was likely still strengthening her. More advantages for Mandy, but Jade wasn't slowing. She didn't complain at the pain, as Mandy did, the broad who seemed more surprised than anything that she was actually experiencing pain. Jade was more focused and bitterly dedicated to the kill than Spike had ever seen her. It'd be impressive, if it wasn't worrying. Somehow, it had been endearing, that she fought hard, fiercely, but lacked a true killer instinct. She always gave a bit of leeway. Not so much now. She struck back with vicious equanimity, and the place was a wrecking ground.

They smashed into pillars with tremendous force, setting a whole quaking about the place. Bits of pillar, statue, stone and rock alike crashed to the ground, with only the unlucky or unfortunate getting struck by it. Buffy and her generals purposefully held down a vampire so he would be squished by a falling chunk, dust bursting out from beneath the rubble. The fallen statue, which likely had been knocked down and vandalized by Mandy's egregious whims provided the only high ground in the room, except for the balcony that Spike and the others had jumped down from. He glanced up, but it was too high for him to jump to. For Jade and Mandy, it was not an impossible feat, for how they nearly flew. Spike felt a spark of jealousy in his chest, not of the hybrid Slayer-Vampires, in all their awesome speed and strength, but mostly that he was unable to keep up. With every blow that Jade suffered from Mandy, he damn well wanted to be there to return it. But he was too slow, too damaged, nearly crippled—he very well might need a sodding wheelchair again if he sustained any more injury, so he could only watch.

When Jade revealed the necklace that she had hidden beneath her torn shirt, his eyebrow arched in surprise, and he breathed a, "Bloody hell!" He was both shocked and perturbed, realising then, that she had lied to him. Why? Was it Jade's plan all along, then, to be captured and turned into a Slayer-Vampire so that she could become more powerful? Was that why she had wanted to come along, not out of friendship, but ambition? It hurt him to think it, though if it was someone else, he might begrudgingly respect their cunning. But he didn't want to think that he had been used as a pawn, for he'd had just enough of that in his unlife to bear it from Jade. Even her words, filled with arrogance and narcissism were so unlike her normal behavior. He debated, briefly and worriedly, that maybe she was lying about having a soul, but her declaration made sense, since Mandy had exclaimed her power over the soulless, and she had none over Jade. So, as much as the paler, brutish vampiric version of Jade did not seem like herself, she had a soul.

A soul. It had never happened before, having a soul directly after turning, and then, only two, now three times in history. Angel by a curse, Spike by choice, and now, Jade by what, just magic? If it had been so easy, why had this not been tried before? The option of turning someone, such as someone who might die, knowing that they could revive with a soul, was a terrible and resounding notion. And he thought, without meaning to, of his mother. He'd bloody well learned from that, that those who rose again, while they had memories and thoughts of their body, could be nothing bloody like them. But for Jade.

He said her name out loud, then, startled out of him, as Mandy, howling and fiercer than any cat, leaped on Jade with all her enormous strength. She tried, desperately, to rip at Jade's throat, to pull the necklace away, but Jade elbowed her away. Undeterred, Mandy had sprung back then forward, striking Jade _hard_ on her shoulder—the same shoulder that had been broken, no, fractured, before her turning. It was obvious from Jade's stifled cry, but evident wince, that it hadn't healed the whole way, and she didn't resist the force of the punch, that threw Jade back into the wall, another quake that shook the whole cavern. She fell to her knees. Blood dripped down side of her face, her scalp. Mandy wasn't unscathed, but now she had the high ground. Spike wrenched forward, but the two Slayer-Vampires had shifted before he could get there, Jade managing a leap to the top of the fallen Statue. Mandy reached her then, once again clawing for the necklace, but Jade covered it with her bad arm's hand and stubbornly would not release it.

With a frustrated howl, Mandy went for the unprotected parts of Jade instead, guessing the connection between her shoulder, its weakness, and slammed Jade hard in the stomach. Jade felt, cracking her head against the statue, pinned down by Mandy, who no longer went for the necklace. As long as Jade's hand held it protectively, Mandy continued to slam down on Jade's torso, her face, with Jade having only one hand to ineffectually block it.

"You bitch!" Mandy hissed. "Give it. Give it, give it! I'll break your whole stupid body until you give it to me!"

Jade reached up with her leg, giving Mandy a kick that lifted the screaming blonde off, but it was at an awkward angle, and not enough strength behind it to toss her very far. Jade had barely scrambled to her feet when Mandy returned, fierce and as relentless as ever. It would be a bloody shame, Spike thought, if Jade had gone through all this trouble for this power to lose it so quickly. But the thought sounded like contempt, and he felt bad, somehow, for thinking it of Jade. Spike made no apologies, and he said things as they were all the damn time, and feeling guilty about it wasn't part of the package. But thinking negatively of Jade had a sodding habit of making him feel lousy about it, especially now that the smug, hateful look had dropped from Jade's face, now more cautious and reflective as she was advanced on by her enemy.

"I drank the blood of a Slayer—remember, _your_ blood. I'm older and better and you haven't a chance." Mandy continued to taunt. Blood stained and dried her useless curls, more rips in the clothes that she had changed into, dirt on her immaculate skin, and a smearing of make-up made it clear that this wasn't the easiest of fights for the Slayer-Vampire to fight, but by no means was Mandy past the point of winning it. Jade, however, it was tilting further back by the second. It might be that her hope would be to wait for the Slayers to help her, but they were still fighting off the rest of the vampires. They had nothing but the few stakes they had scavenged from the earlier attack, no fire, no sunlight. It'd take them too long to beat back the vampires completely, and in the meanwhile, Jade was on her own. Though she wouldn't be, if Spike could at least get damn well close. But as he shuffled closer, he was coming to the conclusion that he just couldn't help, not in his condition, and that bothered him. Whether she was a selfish egotist who had done this for her own gain or not, Spike couldn't deny that he cared for her, her gentle looks, her fierce devotion in a fight, her smile. He saw only one of the things at the moment, and that fierce fight was fading as her body failed her.

Not only was she a newly-turned vampire, still suffering her past wounds, she was starved, with nothing but the bare blood that Mandy had given her, whereas Mandy had drunk her fill like the pig she was. Jade was running on empty, and she knew that. He could see it in her careful blue gaze as she slowly released the bauble around her neck, shifting her stance in preparation for Mandy's lunge.

"You must have left me some," Jade retorted back, undaunted, as her visage changed, allowing the true power of her vampiric side to come out, her forehead ridged and eyes a predatory yellow, "I _am_ the blood of a Slayer." At Mandy's lunge, Jade struck, _hard_ , with her uninjured arm, catching Mandy in the shoulder. The blonde vampire staggered, but didn't fall back, until Jade slipped her foot in, in a kick to her thigh. Mandy slid further down the statue, and Jade followed. "You think you could control an army? You and your boyfriend? That's what you did with your power? Try to share it? Thought you could wield it?" She struck out at Mandy, catching Mandy's answering fist, and the both of them flew back from the impact, hitting opposite walls. Mandy recovered first.

"Don't you dare speak of Derek, you tramp!" She cried out. "It might not have been perfect love, but it was love and you—you tore his head off! And you're going to regret it!" She flew back towards Jade, who was climbing back up the statue, but stumbled a bit and fell when Mandy landed on it, unsteadied by the tremors. "I'd kill yours, but you don't have one! Because you're ugly and homely, and—" Mandy had reached up to Jade, deflecting the brunette's attempt to defend with a brutal punch. Jade staggered back, her hand at her throat, protecting that necklace. Spike cursed, as he had finally reached the statue, and scrambled up awkwardly onto it, his knees, his legs, just about everything protesting the movement. Jade glanced towards him, her golden eyes softly distracted, and Mandy whipped her head quickly in his direction to see what had caught her attention, and then, he could see the triumph split Mandy's face, a bloodthirsty gleam. "Maybe I can kill yours!" She shrilled.

Jade reached out with a furious, desperate kick then, which Mandy easily evaded, laughing at the pathetic attempts. She paid little attention to Jade as she was then, one of Mandy's hands wrapped around her throat, starting to crush it, but Jade could only use one hand to keep Mandy from breaking through her neck like Jade had done with Derek, her other hand still protecting the talisman. It was easy, then, for Mandy to drag Jade with her as she quickly bounced down to the bottom of the statue, where Spike had risen to his full height, clutching the only weapon he could find—the horn of one of the Wainakay demons. But she reached out, quickly, too quickly, deflecting Spike's paltry attempts to stick it in the bitch's stomach, grabbing him by the throat as well.

"Goddamned bint," He managed to wheeze off. He felt his feet dangle off the statue, and Jade was lifted as well, unusually still, and Mandy snapped her head back towards the Slayer-Vampire.

"You know—if you just kept your head in the game, I wouldn't have even noticed him. But with your little, soft 'love me' eyes, he was kind of hard to ignore. So now, since I changed my mind, I don't even _want_ you in my army any more. You can both die right here."

"You can—say that. Or it was a pretty good distraction." Jade coughed out, the hand tightening further around her larynx.

"What—are you talking about now," Mandy asked irritably, though she tightened her grip so much that Spike couldn't have spoken if he wanted to. Even with both hands trying to pry the bitch's hand off his throat, he knew with just a bit more pressure, he'd be dust. And he was starting to think he'd be first. He glanced at Jade, whose eyes were once blue, demure and half lidded as she suddenly smiled.

"Kill yourself," Jade whispered, and glanced instructively down.

"Wha—" Mandy's frowned, then froze. Jade had let go of her necklace, and her free hand had snaked down during Mandy's distraction—getting Spike. With one last, desperate pull, Jade pulled her entwined fingers from Mandy's torso—taking Hippolyta's girdle with it. Mandy's look turned from realisation, to horror, then a glazed, cowlike look as she almost dreamily let go of Jade and Spike. With a bit of confusion, and lacking a stake, she plunged her fingers into her neck, much as the same way Jade had done to Spike, and Mandy literally tore her own head off. Her mouth had opened into a pitiful wail, a shrill, bloody piercing sound, that quickly and thankfully ended, and suddenly she was dust.

Jade and Spike crouched before each other. They didn't need to gulp for air, so they were just still. Spike risked a glance at Jade, seeing her normal, human visage, and a strong, visible pain in her eyes. If it was physical or something else, he didn't know. She glanced at him but for a second, as if to see if he was alright, then she looked beyond him to the fight, and he followed her gaze. The vampires were more and more on the losing side, though some Slayers had dropped, from injury or just death, but now there was a look of panic in the vampires' eyes, as their stupid bloody mistress was nothing but ashes. They surged then, towards the door, but Jade had broken through her short reprieve to stand up. She gripped the belt tightly in her hand.

"Stop." She commanded, her tone louder, heard by all. The vampires did, stopping mid-stride. "Kill yourselves," Jade added, in a monotone, emotionless voice, the same order she had given to Mandy. The vampires shared a look of horror among themselves. As they struggled to finish it, the Slayers eagerly stepped in to help, and the rest of the vampires were dust. It was such a bloodthirsty, efficient gesture that Spike would have been damn impressed, if it hadn't been Jade who had done it. From what he had heard beforehand, she had barely even hunted vampires in Haven, following the rules with much more ease than any Slayers he knew. But she had ordered their deaths without so much as hesitation, although he knew enough about Jade to understand that she didn't want to take any more chances with the remaining Slayers' lives.

The enemies were dust, and the white hats had prevailed, at least this time. Not all of them—enough bodies littered the ground that weren't so easily swept away with a broom and a dustpan. But Spike's eyes were centred on Jade. Her shoulders had relaxed, visibly, as if a great weight had been lifted, and the excruciating vividness of battle had finally ceased. Buffy, who had gathered just below where Spike knelt on the incline of the statue, had cleared her throat, to draw attention. She was still feeling out for a threat, as a Slayer should do, her emerald eyes wary and careful as they focused on Jade. Jade was still, her eyes half-lidded, a distant look in her blue gaze as she stared out at the piles of dust and fallen bodies. There was a low clamor, then, as the Slayers moved among themselves, taking stock of their injuries, of the dead. Some, like Spike, only had one thing in mind. Jade. She hadn't moved since she gave the vampires the order, and was still, so still, as only a vampire could be.

Buffy broke the spell. "Jade," She called out, clear, her voice very carefully even, not suspicious or aggressive. Buffy didn't trust the Slayer-Vampire. Maybe she hadn't heard the soul bit like Spike had, or maybe she did and didn't care. Her people came first, and she wouldn't trust blindly if it put them in danger. And her word, loud and attention-grabbing, as it had meant to, snapped Jade from her stupor. She tore her gaze away from the dead, coming to a sudden realisation that many Slayers had gathered at the base of the Statue, where she stood, only a few meters up from Spike. No-one had tried to step past Spike, so Spike knew at least, Buffy trusted Jade not to hurt him, for she would have ordered her Slayers to cart him away in an instant if she had suspected that. Buffy cleared her throat again, all business, all commanding. "I need to know if—"

In a split second, Jade moved, as more Slayers came closer and closer to the statue. The distant, placid look on her human face had vacated, one of anxiety replacing it instead, and she had moved, as a blur, leaping to the top of the Statue, to the very top and very edge of it, as far away as she possibly could. It wasn't normal, and it didn't put the Slayers at ease. Jade wasn't acting like herself, not as Spike knew it, and he knew her pretty well by now. Sure, not bloody everything about her past, but he was observant, paid a lot more attention than people thought. His Jade wouldn't have been acting so standoffish, she would have immediately desisted to Buffy in an effort to calm the disgruntled, ex-captive Slayers. But she had pushed herself as far away as she could allow, though Spike saw her gaze shift to the balcony, as if debating her own escape. The thought caused a sharp pang in his chest, that she would simply leave and not come back, because he didn't like leaving things unfinished, because he couldn't stand the thought of her alone, not now. Not before he understood what was going on.

And then, she explained it to him, likely without knowing she was doing it.

"Hungry…." She said in a hoarse, pained whisper, something so low and quiet, only a vampire's hearing could pick it up. Spike matched Angel's eyes in the crowd, the same sudden realisation and understanding dawning in their gazes. Alarm had spread on Connor's face, who stood at his father's side, for he had picked up the tidbit too. She _was_ acting odd, yes, but it wasn't all her fault. She was starving, a ravenous, fledgling vampire, and now, with the adrenaline of the fight, the _distraction_ of it, she had picked up information her new senses had delivered her. Blood, and where to find it. Hell, Spike could bloody smell it, on more than half the Slayers. Blood crusted from old wounds, and fresh wounds. Nearly two hundred happy meals, just scant meters from where Jade perched, begging to be eaten.

It must be torture.

Angel made little noise as he jumped from the crowd, landing next to Spike, offering his hand so that the white-haired vampire could climb to his feet. Normally, he'd scorn Angel's attempts to help him—sure, they had reached a certain understanding, but being buddy-buddy on a regular basis was a bit too much for him, but in this case, he needed to be on his legs as quickly as possible, so he gripped Angel's hand with vehemence, allowing himself to be pulled to standing.

"She needs to eat," Angel said, a bit urgently.

"Bloody obvious, mate," Spike scoffed, but he shared Angel's concern.

"I don't know of a new vampire that hasn't drank human blood on their awakening…" Angel continued, his own gaze reflective. Must have been thinking of the days he'd gotten his soul back. Wanker had to stick to rats and animals for quite some time before he'd been able to resist the allure for human blood, and he still had problems resisting it. It had been a bit easier for Spike, but out of necessity. With the damned chip in his head, he hadn't been able to hunt on his own, and though animal blood was bloody paltry in comparison, it had been food, he had been starving, and he had stayed mostly on it ever since. Sure, there had been that bollocks with the First, mixing him up, making him feed on people, but his urge to feed on human blood had seemed a bit easier on him than it had been on Angel. Probably varied, depending. Which didn't give them much of a basis for Jade. But the fact that she was still as stone, that she hadn't tried yet, even though her whole body was trembling with the effort, made damned sense to him why she was acting so strangely. She couldn't lose her focus for a second, or she'd give in to her hunger, soul or no soul.

"Look, you deal with this bloody crowd, alright?" Spike said, coming to his decision in an instant. Had to take Jade away before she lost control. Get some blood in her—animal blood, but at least they were in the middle of a sodding forest, plenty of wildlife around, and none of them could so much as give her a bit of trouble, being what she was. "Going to put some distance between us. Find us in an hour."

"I should go," Angel disagreed, eyeing Spike's several, crippling wounds. "You can't get very far very quickly on that."

Spike growled, a feral sound, in his throat, one that caused Angel's eyebrow to rise. Spike had a bloody problem with this git, thinking that he could just cut in. Just because he had a pet project in redeeming Faith, not to mention his own troubled history, meant that anything that was broken was his to fix. Not that Jade was broken. She was completely new. And Spike was not, not ever again, letting Angel get something of his. Strange, that sudden possessiveness, for the thing he meant was Jade, and the thought of having Angel with her brought out his demon, who'd just as soon break Angel's limbs then let her be alone with him. Hell, he'd done it before. The two of them had a habit of sharing the same woman—not at the same time, God, no, but that ended with Buffy. Jade was not getting passed around. "Deal with this," Spike repeated, fiercely. "And I'll handle Jade."

"Sunset's in just two hours," Angel reminded him, but he wasn't pushing the point, ceding quietly for once. He knew to push Spike on this would be a damn mistake, and with all that Angel and Angelus had ever done to Spike over his lifetime, Angel knew when to back off.

"Spike?" Buffy broke through their quiet murmuring to each other. She was still on possible threat mode, and she didn't like being kept out of the loop. Slayer thing, Leader of the Organization thing, Buffy thing, she hated being ignored, though she had done it plenty to him, hadn't she? So it was partially the fact that she was _alive_ , and she was fine, and he no longer had to stress about her safety, and that it'd feel good, snuffing her for once, reminding her that he didn't live and breathe—or unlive and not breathe on her bloody schedule, he said, swiftly and almost dismissively, "I've got it. You get your chits out and settled, damage control, whatever. You don't have to worry about Jade."

"But she could—" Buffy frowned at his domineering tone. She was never quite willing to relinquish control over to anyone, indeed she grappled with it quite consistently, but Spike was pushing it with something that was a little more pressing—Jade's control, and he didn't have time to namby-pamby around.

"I've got it," He repeated, turning his gaze to Angel, a fierce, blazing blue gaze at those black eyes, warning him. "Find us in an hour. No humans." Angel sighed, nodding, and Spike started to scramble up the statue length. His blasted knee wasn't doing him any favors, and the climb yielded more than a couple of "Bloody hell" from his lip, but behind him, Angel was drawing the Slayers away, explaining, probably more thoroughly to Buffy—playing the good, informative boyfriend bit, but Spike didn't spare much attention to that, just some relief they were finally giving them some breathing room. Not that he and Jade needed it, technically.

Jade had retreated into herself again, a glazed look on her face as she stayed very still. Reminded him a bit of Dru in that moment, when Dru had one of her many, out there barmy moments, where she would just sit and stare at the stars, even when there was a bloody roof in the way. Lost in the recesses of her own mind, Spike shuddered to think that Jade could be broken in that way. He once found Dru's craziness endearing, but in reality, it was a bit saddening, as well as pathetic, and he didn't want that for Jade. He wanted her as her mind had been before, kind, but sharp. Yet she hadn't seemed to notice him struggling up the statue, or bloody hell, he'd have expected a helping hand by now, but if by retreating she was keeping herself from eating everyone, he'd deal with the painful crawl.

He finally reached her, just a few feet of a slide down from her. She was still staring, out, and so to wrench her from her reflection, he pulled at her pale, cold hand. She jumped then, her blue eyes focusing on him, and he could see the struggle in her eyes, the melancholy, fury, but mostly the anxiety. She was afraid of what she could do. Would do. She was hungry, and hell, he was damned tempted to demand that the Slayers start offering up their precious blood, since she had saved them all, but Spike knew that the best way was to not let her have a single drop of human blood from the beginning, so she'd never miss it. Hell, he was tempted from time to time, though never enough that it controlled him, he'd thought about Jade's blood for some time after the first time he had ever tasted it. But thinking and doing were two things, and it was time for doing, like getting the hell out of here and away from temptation.

"Time to go, pet." He said, gently. He had never called her pet before, not even when she had been lying in her deathbed, sicker and sicker each day. He had never needed to dote on her like she was fragile, but it was true, now, when she was in her strongest of body, she had never been so weak. So was so close to breaking, borne from her hunger and a whole lot of things. The demon being one. He had seen its face, so, soul or not, it was still in there.

Jade nodded, slowly. "I'll go," She said in the barest of whispers. The belt she had gripped so tightly, she now laid it resignedly on the etched statue at her feet, knowing she was not to keep it. "I'll stay away," She murmured, her gaze drifting downward to a moment, and he could tell where it was going. Her gaze had gone to Buffy. Even now, she was trying to assure him that she wouldn't hurt Buffy. As if she needed to bloody tell him that. He _knew_ that. Didn't matter if no-one else believed it, that was what he knew and he believed it more than he would believe in any deity. She said it like it was a promise, as well as a goodbye. He could see her muscles tense. Oh, sodding hell. She thought he was telling her to go—and he was, but not alone.

"Hang on a tic," He reached out, wincing as he did so—damn was there anything in his bloody body that wasn't bruised, broken or hurting like hell? He grasped Jade's arm, a firm gesture to hold her bloody still, but as she glanced at, he knew she could rip her arm out of his hold easily if she wanted to. But she stayed still. " _We're_ going, together." She must have been so far away in her head, that she wasn't even listening to what Spike and Angel had been talking about, for her vampire-hearing would have been more than enough to hear them.

"But—" There was a look on confusion on her face. Her eyes began to travel once more to Buffy, but he shook her arm to snap her out of it. Damn well thought he was whipped, didn't she? Thought he had no life but Buffy. Sure, he was well and happy that his beloved blonde Slayer was in one piece, but that was it, she was in one piece. She sure as hell liked him watching over her as much as she needed it—which she didn't. He didn't need to play babysitter, at least not to Buffy.

"Look. We best get away from here. Back up to that balcony, yeah?" He gestured with her head, and her eyes lifted to it. "But I can't quite make the jump." He gave her arm a squeeze, trying to bring her back into the thinking. Normally she didn't need so much explaining, but she still seemed slow, dazed. She glanced uncertainly once more into the crowd, then back up to Spike. Seeing his determined expression, his impatient gaze, she finally snapped out of it, nodding. She rose to her feet, pulling him with her. With a calculating look up at the balcony, she wrapped her arm around his torso. He gasped without meaning to, as she unintentionally jarred his ribs—not only that, her sturdy grasp was that and more—bloody life-squeezing. She stopped immediately, concerned, almost frightened by the fact that she had hurt him.

"Just a bit gentler, luv," He tried to encourage her, trying to keep his voice steady and without pain. It was just the two of them up there, and she was distracted enough by him to not think on those beneath them, the lovely happy meals that could be so easily within her grasp if she went for them. Instead, she was looking at him, as if holding a porcelain doll— _not_ a comparison that overly pleased him. Before he could protest, she flipped him, as easily as if _was_ a doll—again, not happy with that analogy, one hand under his shoulder blades and arms, gripping his upper-half without touching the front side of him—namely, his ribs, and the other, under his legs, though it did jostle his already tender knee, not to mention he had a leg that was recently set, but he was up, in her arms, at least not overcome with agony, and then, with powerful strength in her legs, she crouched then leaped up with all her might, sailing them towards the balcony. Bloody up, up and away.

* * *

 **AN:** _Thank you all for reading! Our story ends here for now, end of part one, or something. I have a lot more plots and more stuff to write, but I need a bit of a break, posting six days a week, at an upwards of 20-30k words a week is a looot, and it's hard to keep that up for too long. But yay, 210k+ in less than three months, I've never written that much and that consistently before, so it must be due to the wonderfulness of Buffyverse, and all you readers and reviewers. But don't fear, I'm not stopping writing completely. Part of the reason for this break is that I also want to post a bit of a novella related to this story, that you guys might actually prefer rather than if I posted the next chapter to this story, because this story will be having a bit of a time jump, whereas the novella starts right after where this leaves off. So why not keep posting it here? Because it's a bit different format than what this story has been, in a couple ways. I'm not one for fluff writing, if you've noticed, I'm more driven by the plot, and less on the smaller things, but I wanted to try a fluff piece that might not have a lot of 'important' things to it, can still be interesting to read, and there's a couple scenes in it I can't wait to write. But also, it's not as developed or as important as this main story, so I might not finish it before I start back posting this story. Also, the novella is written by the day, or the 'night' (since they're vampires), so the first chapter is like 8k long, so I won't be posting the novella's chapters each day, but hopefully it'll keep you entertained until I start this story back up, which won't be too long, (I'm sure most of my appeal is that I update so often ;D) so stay tuned. I'll be posting the first chapter of the novella tomorrow, under the name of 'Ninety Two Nights', so if you're interested, go ahead and give that a read. And if not, since it's a bit slower than my story, and as I said, less plot driven, I hope to return here in a couple weeks, perhaps less! Thank you for your support, your reviews and your time, and don't worry, Jade and Spike's story is far from over. (I hope not, since it takes like 200 thousand words for a quick kiss.)_


	58. Chapter 57

_**Author's Note** : Hey guys. I'm sorry it's been so long. Life really got in the way. Moved across the country, new jobs, author's note and far too many new video games really put a hard stop to my writing. I've wanted to get back for a while, since I didn't stop because I ran out of ideas—I have many, many more. So many more plots I really wanted to get into and didn't get there. So I've been using NaNoWriMo as an excuse to get my writing started again, and it's slow. Hard to get back into the flow again, but I've been trying. For those who don't know, NaNoWriMo is national November writing month, where you try to write a 50k novel in the month of November. Well I decided to continue up the RP again, and it's helping me get started again. I haven't been writing as much per day as I used to, hopefully I get up to that, it takes me a lot longer to get out the chapters, (you might remember I posted Catch My Fall 6 times a week), but I really want to keep writing this, since I love Spike and Jade, and haven't gotten into them at all, really. And though I haven't been posting, I have read every single review, and I want to thank everyone for their support. Sorry I let you down by stopping for this long. (If I didn't have to work and could just write all the time, man would that be nice.) I'm sorry for the lack of quality, I h ope it'll improve in time, and like always, I don't edit my work. I just get it out so it's out. If I ever do finish, that's when I'd go back to the drawing board, but for now, sorry for any mistakes. Also, I'm posting here, because it's a continuation of Catch My Fall, not the shorter novella, Ninety Two Nights. That's on a standstill for now. I might continue it one day, but it's just the interlude between chapters 56 and 57, and most events will be mentioned here, along these next chapters, so it won't be in detail, but should still fill the blanks. I also waited this long so that I wouldn't write a couple more chapters and stop again. I really want to keep going, get the next big plots out. So thank you again for all the reviews, favorites, follows, it really helps motivate me knowing that people were actually interested in this, and I'll do my best to deliver. That said, I **have the next three chapters already written.** I didn't want to start writing again without more than a chapter with no promise of when the next will be. As tomorrow is quite quite busy for me, expect the next chapter to be on Monday. I apologize for any slowness, I hope my writing will start to get better again! Thank you again for all the support. And here it is, the first chapter in many months._

 **57**

 **Four Months Later**

"Five mo' minutes." Spike spoke, watching her blue eyes flash up at him, a mixture of irritation and impatience, but determination burning in there as well. At least her eyes were still blue, a testament to her so far success. It was obvious that it was frustrating, but hell, he'd take good ol' solid anger as a motivation any day of the week. Few things worked better.

"Spike," She said, her voice less and less even by the minute, grating with the strain. "Haven't I proved it yet?" She had bloody well tried, sweat glistening on her otherwise cold skin. Vampires didn't perspire as much as humans, but it didn't mean that they could drip provided a good exercise or two. And that was what this was, an exercise that Spike had demanded and implemented. And he'd keep damn well doing it, until he was sure. No shortcuts, not with her. The repercussions were too considerable.

"Not til' I say so," Spike shot back, just as snide, taunting her with a smirk. Jade ground her teeth but didn't say anything, so good at keeping herself contained, even with a bucket of fresh, human blood just sitting in front of her. Even had a little straw sticking out of it, Spike's quirky addition, make it a bit more inviting, more easy to just reach forward and suck it up. And he had to make it easy, test her strength. Testing it was all they had been doing for the last four months, hadn't it. But it was worth it. She had a clean slate that Spike and bloody Peaches Angel damn well hadn't.

Jade hadn't had a speck of human blood all this time. Four months as her Vampire-Slayer hybrid self and she hadn't broken it. Bloody gold star accomplishment, that's what that was. And he was right well determined to keep it that way. It had been close. More than a couple times she'd almost lost control. Hell, once she'd damn near staked herself to keep from doing it. Alright, so she had said it was an accident, missing the warm and inviting blood bags and hitting a tree branch instead, but he was working on narrowing down those extremes. And no more bloody near-comas either, where she'd retreated into that noggin of hers and acted like a damn brain-dead zombie. No, just control.

Angel'd been a bit of a ponce about it, stating that Spike was probably the worst to teach _anyone_ control, but Spike'd teach that git otherwise, wouldn't he? Plus, he'd done plenty of training with the itty bitty Slayer-lings, although that had been a bit too much high energy women titters for him.

He hadn't ever taught another Vampire how to Vampire properly, though. Getting Jade used to that high speed running and jumping, somethin' like a constant adrenaline rush on top of the Slayer agility she already had, that had been some getting used to as well. But he had taught her to fly, hadn't he? Made it worth it, retreating himself to the bloody arse end of nowhere, wrapping themselves in isolation to give her the time and space. Worth it to see her smile when she realised she could soar almost like a damn bird. Soar over the whole forest, minus a few tree hops to keep her afloat.

Didn't happen as much now that they were back near the town, Haven. Less trees, though the tops of the buildings had provided enough of a platform. Spike could barely keep up with her when she practiced that on the roofs. She liked it though, and he wasn't about to keep her from it. Especially not lately.

Needed to do something to appease her. Seemed like he was trying to appease just about everyone. Jade, Buffy. Buffy. Couldn't think about her right now. That was a load of guilt and confusion he couldn't deal with. More pressing concerns now. He glanced back at Jade, whose eyes were still gleaming with determination. At least, that was all he could read. Harder and harder to do it nowadays. Hard to know when she was struggling when she didn't say a damn thing about it. Holding back from him. It shouldn't miff him, but it did. Trying to make him look barmy for suspecting something was the matter, and she'd just blink those damned large innocent blue eyes back at him and insist he was losing his mind. That nothing was wrong. He had about enough of it. He knew he should be more understanding, but he was getting to the end of his bloody rope about it.

"Three minutes," Jade audibled. She hadn't glanced at the blood bucket for a bit, keeping her eyes solely to the side, not even glancing at Spike. Avoiding him too, sitting there like it was no challenge at all. Well Spike couldn't be mostly sure, he had to be completely certain. After all, he had been trying to put this off for a while. Didn't think Jade was ready yet, but she was so bloody eager to prove him wrong, it felt like rushing. And rushing was asking for trouble. So he needed to really test her resolve.

Spike kneeled down in front of the bucket between them and dipped his hand. Startled, Jade's eyes followed him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, the irritation gone, as well as the smugness, now obviously unnerved as he reached out towards her with a hand, dripping with fresh, still warm blood. Courtesy of Ed, Jade's ex-boss, who had used to connections to order some warm human blood rather than the bottled, booze-mixed kind. He was a bit of a goody two shoes so Spike had been pretty sure that he hadn't gotten the blood drained from some corpses. The man had been pretty accommodating after he had learned of Jade's new status, willing to help her out. And there was the matter of her helping him reunite with his son, or something or other. Spike hadn't gotten or hadn't cared for the whole story, but it certainly had made Ed more friendly. Bit too friendly, always willing to help out if Jade needed a thing. Spike didn't like it, though bloody hell if it was anything but hypocritical if he made a fuss. Wasn't his business now.

"Just upping the ante, Slayer." Spike said slyly, finding a mean twinge of satisfaction at the dread on her face. Wasn't so easy, was it now? He stopped his covered fingers a few centimeters from her cheek. He could tell by her absolute stillness, her lack of even scent-breathing that she wasn't inhaling through her nose at all. Completely blocking her sense of smell, thanks to the fact that Vampires didn't need to breathe. He had made her smell the blood in the bucket earlier—holding out on the smell only worked if they knew there'd be blood already. Didn't much help in the case of a surprise. Of which there'd be plenty.

Her eyes had centered on his hand, a softer look on her face now, more vulnerable, and he paused. Didn't want to force this on her, even if it was the whole point of the exercise, testing her strength. So he waited, then nearly gently, he asked, "If you're not ready—"

Her eyes snapped from his hand to meet his gaze, the vulnerability gone, and the conviction back in its place. There was no stopping her then. He knew her answer before she even moved her lips. "I'm ready," Jade stated, not even closing her eyes as he painted her cheek with the warm blood. They had heated it up beforehand, keeping it as fresh as they could, since they still had to use blood bags to fill up the bucket. No volunteers standing there with their arms out, although it could certainly be a new addition to the lesson if Jade failed it. See how strong her resolve would be with her meat bag staring back at her. Though he had thought of that at the beginning. Jade would just fight harder with an actual human there to unnerve her. Had to be less humane. Had to be a bucket. Blood that was already gone from the body that no-one would miss, no-one would die from. That's what had to be staring her in the face. Had to be drying on her cheek.

He looked at the contrast, the bright, crimson red painted on her cheek. Her skin seemed of marble now, a near pure white under the blood drippings. It reminded Spike of the color she used to have in her cheeks, her rather noticeable blush that she lost after she became a vampire. It was one of the things she lamented about losing. Something that made her feel human.

He watched as a droplet of blood ran down her face, passing to her chin, just a few centimeters away from the corner of her lips. Watched her mouth twitch, and he tensed, waiting for her tongue to dash out and lick the blood away. She'd be too fast for him to stop her, a blur and then the exercise would be over. Failed. But still she didn't move. Her hands were gripping the other tightly, already white knuckled, but more so now. Her eyes seemed wider again, body tense as a bloody stone statue, yet still a soft vibrating underneath that his vampire eyes could make out. A soft tremble. Her eyes caught his, maybe by accident, a fleeting sadness in it that she had been so good at keeping from him. Then she closed those eyes, visibly and forcibly relaxing herself as she stood up straighter. Preparing herself for the final minutes.

"Two," Spike said aloud for her benefit. He had little doubt she was counting in her head, anything to distract herself. And she gave him a near imperceptible nod, her eyes still closed. She was doing it. He didn't know what to feel. Relief, or bemoan the ending. The second one didn't make much sense. Been barely a speck of action for him. Not near enough monster and demon killing to whet his appetite, 'least not usually. Soul or no soul, Spike had always thrived on violence—well at least since his first death. The poncy William Pratt not so much, but even after the spark was returned to him years ago, that violent thirst had yet to leave him. Maybe it never would. Just like the scent of the warm human blood resting in the bucket before him, fresh and enticing—O Negative—still called to him. He could resist it. There'd definitely been a no human drinking rule instigated since Spike had reluctantly aligned himself with the Scoobies, and for the most part, he had followed it. Taken to it a lot better than Forehead Angel. But it didn't mean it didn't tempt him a little. Maybe it would for the rest of his times. However long that would be, since he didn't have a bloody clue.

And he hadn't known how long this would last either. He'd resigned himself to the thought of years, and maybe at point it wouldn't have seemed so bad. When things had been better between him and Jade. Closer. When there wasn't this wall they didn't speak about, that Spike couldn't not notice and Jade pretended didn't even exist. So now, he was antsy as hell to get it over with, declare her all well and good. The small favors they did for Lorne hadn't satiated his quest for adventure all that much. He should be rooting for Jade, and not hoping she might fail.

He didn't want her to fail. Bloody hell, she tried so hard to keep herself from having a taste of human blood, he didn't want that for her at all. Didn't want to know what she was missing. Just stick to that animal blood and not know anything better. But still, he didn't want it to change. Jade had no choice but to stick with him and talk to him—though she avoided him well enough when she felt like it, it'd be different when they got back. Back to society, back to the thick of it. Spike should be revelling at the chance to get in the middle of it, spill some demon blood, yeah, probably his included. Should be counting down the seconds. But he wasn't. Damn confused little Spike hoping that it wouldn't come so easy to her, that she'd have more trouble, it'd take more time.

Well he wouldn't want to rush her. That was a bloody excuse but it popped up in his mind often. Gave him some feeling of goodness down in his joints, like he was somehow the white-knighting champion, saving someone from the evil dredges instead of being looked down on like he was beneath the bloody soil. Angel wasn't the only one got to be the hero, save the girl. Then again, Angel didn't get to keep the girl, and Spike had. He was a lucky bastard, wasn't he? After all this time, got what he wanted. Wasn't it?

"One," Jade breathed. With her moving lips another drop of blood rolled down her face, this time off the sharp edge of her jaw, falling directly onto the white collar of her shirt. Her eyes still didn't move, but Spike could see her fingers tighten, wrap around each other even more, one hand covered by the other. She was still sitting perfectly still, the blood mostly dried except for the bottom, so he stopped his mental self-degradation and applied a fresh coat. Could feel her skin, warm in some patches, cold in others, soft where he painted her and dry where the blood had already been. Couldn't hold his hand there long, wouldn't be right, so he dropped his hand back to his side and wiped off the blood in distaste. Couldn't eat it, shouldn't want it.

He knew she was counting down the seconds by how her lips moved. Just barely, but he could tell. Her foot started moving, tapping slowly, each second away. He thought for a moment about increasing the time, but he couldn't be that cruel again. Couldn't give her a set time and add to it over and over. It'd just because he wouldn't want her to accomplish bit. Couldn't be a git now. He'd promised, hadn't he? Didn't quite live up to all his promises, now did he, but he would for this one. She was proving herself. Whether he wanted to or not.

"It's time," Spike said as her eyes flew open. A sigh of relief, breath she didn't need as she reached over for the lid and slammed it down on the bucket with amazing speed. Unbelievable speed, but not so much to him anymore, he'd seen plenty of it over the last couple of months. Starting to get used to it now. She was as fast as a much older vampire, even more than him. That damn Slayer boost with the undead mojo and she could defeat Spike with ease now. Like fighting the powered up Illyria all over again, but without the barmy time stuff that arsed up everything. Just the mack truck blows. Just.

She glanced around uncertainly, pride in her eyes but now a bit of desperation. Still had the blood on her cheek, still running down her prominent collar bone and shoulder. Spike glanced around the basement they were in, though he'd had plenty of time to memorize it in the minutes they had been down here training, spotting one of the towels they used after a sparring match. He rose to his feet, grabbed it from behind him and passed it to her. Relief in her eyes that she tried to hide—after all if it was that easy for her, she wouldn't be so chuffed about finishing it, now would she?—and she quickly rubbed at her cheek, furiously and entirely, until the only red on her cheek was from the rubbing of the towel. She dropped it next to the barrel and stood up, turning back towards him, bloody determined again.

"I'm ready," She declared again, and he sucked in his cheeks, mashing on a bit of skin in his mouth. Yeah, she had damn well proved that, hadn't she. Her face fell a bit at his hesitation, then her brow furrowed. "Spike, I've completely all your exercises over the last month. This was the last task. I'm ready now. We can go back."

"Yeah, seems like that, don't it." Spike took a step to the corner of the room and leaned against one of the metal shelves, her eyes following him. "Could be a bit too early though," He shrugged nonchalantly, watching the frustration on her face. Well he had to say it now, didn't he? Maybe if she talked herself out of it, it wouldn't be all on him. But no, she was looking at him like he was the bad guy. And he was just looking out for her. It was all he had bloody well been doing.

"Spike, you said that—"

"I know what I said!" He interrupted, his voice rising inadvertently. He ran his fingers through his crisp, freshly dyed hair. The good thing about sticking for a while in one place next to a town with an actual shop. His hair was back to its normal glory, his fingernails painted. Such a long down time should have drove him crazy, but it hadn't. "Fine. Yer right. You've done bloody well. Outshone that ponce Angel, that's for sure. Took him a near century to battle the thirst." Jade nodded, her face less antagonistic, softening a little under his praise. "But you realise why I'm the cautious one, yeah?" He ventured, and she nodded, blinking up at him with those blue eyes, the eyes that had only glinted gold once during their exercise, at the near beginning, and after she had gotten control of her vampire face, it hadn't happened again. The first initial sniff he had made her take of the bucket had been a little much for instinct to fight, but since then she had been fine. She was fine, really. He didn't need to worry about like an old biddy. But he couldn't help it, not with Jade. He'd always worry. Lately, even more so.

"Yeah," She answered quietly. "And I appreciate it, really. You've kept me from… you've helped so much. Heck, I probably _could_ use a hundred years to overcome my thirst completely." She chuckled wryly, trying to put some humor into it. Like he was used to by now. Hell, if anyone invented that, it was him. "But it's been four months, and I haven't done… anything. For anyone."

"You're not obligated to join the white bloody cloaks you know," he told her, futilely. She had a damn white knight complex. Same as Buffy. Both dying for someone else. Then again, so had he. Burned up to save the whole damn world, hadn't he. Didn't expect to come back. None of them had. Cept maybe Jade. And she hadn't known for sure if she was coming back as a soulless evil super vampire bitch like the blonde Mandy had been. No, all she had was that little necklace 'round her throat keeping her normal. As normal as she could be. And Spike knew she didn't forget about it for a second, never let her guard down, never could. Angel was on his toes too, keeping out for that moment of happiness. Kept him away from Buffy at least. Good for Spike. The only soulless vampire who didn't have to worry about it getting sucked out. Hadn't lost it since he got the damn thing, for better or worse. "Don't owe them a thing."

"I know," She said, toying with that short hair of hers. She lamented that it didn't grow as fast as it used to, but it was long enough now for her to pull it into a high ponytail, away from her face, with strands of shorter hairs breaking free as they always did, some attached to her forehead by sweat and some still sticking to her cheek from the blood that had dried there. "But I want to help. You're the one that told me about the mission after all."

"Not really a mission, say. There'll always be some kind of bloody do anyway," Spike admitted. Damn. He regretted mentioning to it as soon as he had. Buffy had been the one to put him up to it. Blondie was just as persuasive as ever—more so lately, although didn't he feel like a bastard for agreeing to it. Didn't expect her to throw her heart into it, that was for sure. Like she needed something to work towards after… He shook his head. She said she had been fine about it, so he didn't need to beat himself up about it. But he would anyways.

"But you said Buffy needed _me_." Jade spoke, her eyes narrowing only a little when she spoke Buffy's name, not a single other tell to admit that she was anything but amiable with Queenie Chosen One. "That she needed a vampire."

"Yeah well, rushing is bad, innit?"

"We're not rushing. I'm ready. For whatever is. Come on, Spike. It's time to leave Haven. Go back to the Slayers."

"You died for them already," Spike grumbled, still hesitant. Still bloody unsure about why. Watched Jade suck in the flesh of her cheek and chew on her bottom lip, a sure sight of her thinking about something.

"And I'm not planning on doing that again. But I have all this…" She paused before finishing her sentence. "Power." Spike knew the reason for her hesitation. Didn't like bragging, that one. Humble still, something Spike definitely didn't regain along with his spark. "Gotta use it. Besides. Don't you want to go back?"

"Go back?" He scoffed. "Sure, getting thrown into the thick of it with some good ol' demon blood pumping is what any fellow wants, but it comes with a hell of a lot of squealing, giggling Slayerettes in that package."

"Well, Buffy's there." She said it quietly, her words carrying a hell of a lot of impact. They barely spoke of it. Spike didn't at all, and Jade would only to insist that she was 'fine'. Fine with it, bloody hell. Spike didn't feel fine with it, he felt like a bastard.

Kissed Jade, only to go to Buffy's finally open arms a day later.

Yeah, he was a bastard.

"Right you are," He said as neutrally as he could. Hell of a lot more balanced than he felt. Learned from the best though, hadn't he? Sure hadn't been the same between him and Jade after that. Like something had crumbled to century old dust. But they couldn't talk about it—didn't talk about it. But bloody hell, if this was something she wanted, going back to the Slayerettes, then he had to redeem himself somehow and bloody let her.

"Fine. Get packing, then, Bloody Mary. We leave tonight."


	59. Chapter 58

**58**

"You're leaving, then?" Lyth asked, making a face as she sucked down some suspicious looking glowing liquid—which she had offered to Jade. Jade had declined, quickly. Just because she was a demon didn't mean she wanted to take any chances. The last thing she needed was to grow horns or another arm.

"When it's dark." Jade nodded. Lyth had come to her—the whole travelling during sunlight thing was still far from Jade's capabilities, and likely would be for the rest of her life. But Lyth could just pop in anywhere she pleased—benefits of being a Mok'Tagar Demon, able to teleport with ease. "Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, well, one of us had to." Lyth sniffed. "You sure that Spiky haired Peroxide bottle is out of ear shot? You know how tenacious your vampire hearing is."

"He's gone," Jade assured her. Not because she felt his absence, nothing like that—that'd be silly. But he had headed off near an hour ago to say his own goodbyes to see Lorne, running out like a bat out of hell, hunched under his smoking duster as he darted between trees. Yeah, Jade had watched him go. Hadn't felt anything else. Right? "Went to see Lorne."

"Oh, right. McGreenie. His club is more and more popular these days. I avoid the karaoke night of course, but Lady's happy hour is something worth checking out."

"I'll take your word for it," Jade answered wryly, and Lyth pouted, the kind of pout that belonged on some actress' face, with her full lips and large, doe like eyes. Jade noticed Lyth's beauty and envied it, not for the first time, although at least Jade didn't have to worry about her skin getting pulled off and revealing her real face—the true Mok'Tagar demon's appearance was somewhat less attractive by human standards.

"So Peroxide's going back to his honey again, then is he?" Lyth asked without much preamble, and Jade wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything. At least there wasn't that hollow feeling in her stomach like there had been a month ago, when it was fresh and new and she felt like she had been carved out with a spoon. Since then that hurt had subsided and all she felt now was extremely stupid. So stupid to think there had ever been a chance with her and Spike. That as soon as Buffy crooked her finger he wouldn't come running—and he had.

"Yeah. Lyth, you know I don't want to talk about it."

"Because it broke your little heart, didn't it," Lyth answered back, pouting her bottom lip and using that same cutesy demeaning voice Jade used when she talked to her cats.

"No, I'm fine." Wanting something in her hands and wishing for a moment that she _had_ gotten a drink—although still not the questionable liquid Lyth was swirling around, Jade toyed with her hair instead, running her fingers through the chopped edges. Lyth had offered to fix it up a bit—the demon's hair grew so fast she had gotten quite adept with haircuts, but Jade had declined. Stupid sentimentality now that she thought about it—she hadn't wanted to change it since it had been Spike who had cut it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Sure," Lyth rolled her eyes. " _So_ fine that after mere hours of kissing you he runs back to Miss Beck and Call and comes back _stinking_ like her. At least he came right out and said he wanted Blondie instead of you, really dulled the backstab I think."

"Lyth," Jade warned in a deep resigned sigh. "I never should have told you." Lyth was definitely not the quiet encouraging friend, no, she was the blunt instrument that wanted to bash Jade over the head with it until she was numb to it. Probably not the worst plan in the world, but heck it still hurt.

"But you did, honey. I don't know why you didn't let me get some good ol' revenge. Madame Syeira doesn't _just_ do illusion rings you know. She has a hobby in hexes."

"I appreciate it," Jade blurted quickly to stop the demon from continuing a long—and detailed—tirade about all the possible hexes. "Let's just change the subject. I said I'm fine."

"Yes, yes." Lyth rolled her doe eyes, before unnervingly letting them rest between Jade's collarbones—where a certain small, very important trinket laid mostly hidden beneath Jade's clothes. That was something else Jade wasn't going to tell Lyth about—just in case. Lyth was the occasional drink buddy friend, not a 'lose your life for' friend, and not a lose your soul for either. But being a Mok'tagar Demon, born without a soul, she could sniff them out. It was how her kind found renegade Mok'Tagar Demons and brought them back to their realm. The soulless ones. And why Lyth was staying in Haven, surrounded by equally soulless creatures like vampires, and not 'partying it up in New York City.' Still, Lyth had sensed the odd placement of Jade's soul, how it was attached but not a part of her, and had figured it out quickly enough. "And how about that soul of yours. Still ticking away all sweet and good?"

Jade kept her fingers from curling around her neck defensively. Okay, while she wouldn't put it past Lyth to try something if Jade was bleeding out and ready for death, no Lyth would _definitely_ jump on her free soul ticket out of Haven, Lyth wasn't strong enough or quick enough to pull it off of Jade face to face. And Jade didn't completely believe Lyth would anyway. No, they weren't best friends, unbreakable bond, but there was respect between the two. Lyth respected her that much. Jade hoped. The other part, where she wasn't so sure, well, that was what her super speed was for.

"Still ticking." Jade confirmed to which Lyth let out a sigh.

"Relax, you're stiff as a skeleton. I'm not going to take it," She raised her free, manicured hand in promise. "But I mean, it's a good idea right. Give those little pendant things to any vampire bait. They get turned, whammie maybe you'll get more souled goons like you popping out of the woodwork."

Jade grimaced. "It's not that easy. Maybe if it were like that, we could give it to cancer patients before they die, but it's really not that simple. It doesn't work out."

"So what, 50-50? 30-70? Those are still good odds." Lyth shrugged. "Enough people want to be vampires anyway, especially with that Harmony chick popping her big face on tv, yammering about what lurks in the night." Another eyeroll from Lyth, who preferred fitting in—thus the human-like skin on her face that she took such care of.

"And this charitable idea you have, it just comes from the goodness in your heart, right?" Jade teased, somewhat more relaxed. Though the thought of her vulnerable soul tensed her up more than most things, it was still better than talking about Spike. She didn't want to talk about him anymore. Think about him, even. It's why she had to get out of Haven, get back to the Slayer headquarters in San Francisco. Yeah, it would bring Spike right back into arm length of Buffy, but at least Jade would stop hoping for otherwise, start tricking herself into believing that things maybe wouldn't last, that maybe it wasn't working out. A fool's idea, really. No, Spike needed to go back to his Buffy, and Jade wanted to do something, _anything,_ get herself back out there and something to distract her. Something to use this strength that she had. While she had it. She didn't have the luxury of thinking it'd be in her control for the rest of her life, and that scared her.

"Well, yeah, mostly. Give me the nobel peace prize or whatever."

"And with all these extra soul necklaces hanging about…" Jade prompted, not at all distracted by Lyth's nonchalance, rewarded by a teeny smirk.

"Okay, so maybe I'd take one. Just _one_ though, Jade, out of a whole batch. Maybe just to borrow. Or if it turns out they're really big assholes anyway, just pull the little sparkplug and stake 'em. Easy Peasy. And then look, a soul no-one's using."

"And that is exactly why." Jade smirked. "Putting _more_ vampires into the mix? No thank you. If the pendants worked all the time, maybe. But we don't need crazed, soulless vampires running around with broken souls. And besides, is an asshole soul really the one you'd want anyway?"

"I'm not that picky, darling," Lyth sipped at the last of her drink, finishing the glowing liquid and licking her lips. "Besides, I'm an asshole anyway. It'd fit right in. Be a bit confusing if I got a man's soul, but I'd make it work."

"Yeah, well. Good luck with that." Jade bounced up from the couch, reaching Lyth's alcohol from the counter and tipping more into the demon's glass, getting a pleased smile. Jade looked around the house. They hadn't been there for very long, two months maybe. It was just outside Haven, secluded enough. But it had been nice, and for a brief time, felt like it had been _theirs_ , something to share with Spike. Now it was just an empty, crumbling house, and felt far too large for the two of them. It'd be nice to leave it. She'd eventually convince herself of that. Convince herself she wouldn't miss being here, just her and Spike.

Lyth didn't stay for much longer, bidding Jade adieu and giving her a kiss on the cheek, popping out without even a poof. It was Ed that was due to arrive later, just after school ended. After he picked up his son, Henry. That still blew Jade's mind a bit, that Ed was a father. Henry, unlike him, wasn't a werewolf, but since Ed had gotten it from his own parents, he had been so terrified about passing it on that he had let his son stay with the mother after birth, distancing himself from the both of them, even when the mother passed and Henry was put into the Haven orphanage. Ed had stayed close, but not near enough. Jade had never known any of it, not even suspected, until she had been possessed by that Gate of the dead, where the dead souls reached through her to speak to their loved ones. After unnerving Ed by speaking about Henry when she should have known nothing, she realised it had been part of the possession, and had told him so on her return to Haven two months. She had convinced Ed to reunite with his son, a quiet, spindly thing, and they were working it out. Ed was more paranoid than ever about his Werewolf changes, but they had gone overboard on protection, even with some spells from the town magic seller, Lyth's favorite, Madame Syeira. And Henry didn't seem bitter. He was quiet as he always was, and seemed to adjust well enough.

And now her ex-boss was a full on frenetic father. The thought made her chuckle. So strange how her life had changed in less than a year. Instead of being on the run away from her estranged, manipulative sister, Jade was now dead, with the Slayers but not part of them, with Spike, but not in the way she had really wanted, the fate thrown them together sort of way that didn't count, and hadn't held up to Buffy's tantalizing appeal.

There she was, drifting off into the gloom and doom of it all. _Don't dwell, Jade_ , she chastised herself. _Just move on._ It was a schoolgirl crush gone awry. And she needed to stop thinking about it, move on and do something useful with herself. Be the scary to the big bads. The only Slayer-Vampire—Slaypire, dubbed by Xander, in the world.

At least she hoped she was the only one.

"So you're leaving for a while, then?" Ed said, trying hard not to show his disappointment, keeping a leery eye on Henry as the smaller redhead ambled curiously around the house. And yes, it wasn't the most upkept of places, with more cobwebs than Jade could count and peeling wallpaper, but at least there weren't any nails sticking out of the floor—probably. Still, she couldn't much blame Ed for his overprotectiveness—that had been in part why he had given up his son for so long—eleven years of his life. Fear that he'd complete the cycle, the parent accidently nipping their child during a full moon. Jade had taken to watching over him during the full moon nights, even though he was so secure he hadn't needed her. Still, it was a safety blanket he had been grateful for, and she could tell he was slightly unsettled by her leaving.

"There's a Gameboy on the table over there," Jade informed Henry, who nodded without saying anything, following Jade's pointing finger and picking it up from the rather dusty bookcase. The shelves were dusty, the Gameboy advance was not. Daylight hours seemed long when she was absolutely stuck inside. At least Spike could step outside, with a bit of smoking skin or so. Jade had stuck to flipping up the blinds, allowing a crack to filter through and letting it touch her skin. She burned quickly—too quickly, although she healed well enough too. Not enough to keep her from bursting into flames, but she was trying to build up her resistances. One of the things Spike had said without meaning to, the things that Angel—Angelus had done to him in the years before. Antagonistic, sadistic, but some had actually helped Spike, contributing to his affinity to withstand a great deal of pain. Live a bit longer in the sunlight. Well Spike had over a hundred years on her, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. Her human fear of death by drowning had since been replaced by a fear of burning by sunlight.

"It's Pokemon still," Jade called to him, ready to offer some explanation, but Henry offered no questions—as per usual, just stepping to the couch—which while didn't support very well, was probably one of the cleaner things in the house, and sank into the cushions, tapping adeptly away at the buttons. "But you don't seem to need an introduction," Jade finished with a light smile.

"He likes Pokémon," Ed offered. "About one of the few things he likes talking about."

"That's right, right." Jade said, smiling and shaking her head. Vaguely she remembered looking Henry up at the Orphanage, actually getting a few words out of him after some prompting from Lisa. She'd asked him about Eddie Grayson, and at the time all the young boy had been able to say of him is that he came around a few times and brought Pokémon cards. He hadn't much to say about the man who was actually his father, although as far as Jade knew, Henry hadn't fought the change, moving out of the Orphanage and being officially reclaimed by his actual father. As far as she knew. "How's he doing, then?" She asked, dropping her voice, and glancing out of the corner of her eye to the boy on her couch. He didn't stir, staring blankly down at the screen, but Henry was a smart kid, from what the orphanage had said, intuitive, although still 'normal', with no supernatural qualities that the other kids had. Or like his father.

Eddie shrugged, looking a bit uncertain. His long red hair, instead of being in the ponytail that Jade had come to be used to was cut short, a little shaggy still, but relatively more kempt, and his beard was gone as well. As the business manager and owner of his liquor store he had never looked slummy, but not so put together either. He was serious at least, even if he had abandoned his son through some misguided—in Jade's opinion—desire to protect him. Pushing someone away wasn't protecting them, although at least in Henry's case, the boy had been unaware he had good, loving family sitting there, just out of reach.

"He's doing fine. Doesn't complain, at least. Doesn't say much one way or another. He misses the other kids at the Orphanage, but he sees them at school, and I have a couple come over sometimes. That Lisa girl you like. I don't know. Doing my best, but…"

"It's hard to read him. Well at least he's not kicking and screaming. Probably better that he's not. Quiet's not always bad." Jade had been quiet once, under the thumb of her sister, after the loss of her boyfriend. She had been silent and determined, didn't argue, didn't fight back, just accepted everything. Then she ran away to Haven and left it all behind. "You're doing fine, Eddie," Jade added with a reassuring smile as the tall man's shoulders slumped a bit. "It was the right thing, taking him back."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed, his green eyes brighter as he glanced at his son. "It was. Thanks for that. I don't think I would have done it on my own."

"Hard to tell. Don't count yourself out. Glad I could help, but it wasn't all me." Jade hopped easily up onto the counter. Her stomach growled, but she refrained from reaching into the fridge for the jars of blood. She knew Eddie was getting used to the idea of her being dead, that she had to eat, but that didn't mean she wanted to eat in front of them. She knew he had been nervous about letting her around Henry, since his blood was pure, untainted like Eddie's was—at least to her. But she worked on it—it was almost all she had been working on, just building up her restraint. Even now, she _could_ smell it, the fresh, enticing smell, along with the little throbbing beat of Henry's heartbeat as he tapped at the Gameboy, the blood rushing through his veins. But she could handle it. Found a way.

Spike wouldn't like it if he knew, really knew how she kept herself controlled. But why not? It worked. Was helping her get over her blood lust in months, not a century like Angel. Who cared how she did it. Who cared that she had broken all the bones in her fingers when Spike had put that bucket of blood in front of her and smeared it on her face. Each time she thought about it, each barest second that she was even tempted, _snap_ , there went another bone, and the pain kept her levelheaded. She didn't need to get yelled at for that—or worse, have to stay here longer. She _was_ defeating the desire, just quicker, and she could handle it. Healed up quicker than anything afterwards. There was no lasting effect. Her bones healed faster than any vampire or any Slayer, for that matter. Some of them were almost healed by the time they had finished the exercise anyway. And if they were a little out of joint, she'd fix it, a quick snap and they'd be back to normal. Even more normal than they had been before, really. The exercises that Pen, Jade's sister, had done with her all those years ago had left her fingers crooked. They were better now, healing much faster than Jade's before-Slayer days. She didn't crave the pain, but she did need it to keep her level, keep her mind on what was important. Keeping away from human blood. And Spike didn't need to know the specifics.

She didn't owe him that any more. Probably never had, although might have thought so at one point due to a sense of misguided loyalty, misguided feelings for him. Well she knew better now, didn't she? And there was nothing wrong with it, nothing wrong with quickly and quietly snapping the middle bone in her pinky when she became just too aware of Henry's blood scent. There, a quick, white hot throb, and it was enough.

Jade glanced at Eddie, who had looked over at his son again. There was enough expression on his face for Jade to tell what he was thinking, worrying again, she was sure. "You'll be fine without me." She said, drawing his eyes back to her. "Really. You haven't even gotten close, both times. The cooler is strong. And Henry's smart anyway. He knows how to use the tranquilizer gun if something _did_ happen."

"Yeah." Eddie nodded, slowly, his succinct habits something he seemed to have passed onto his son, just as quiet when he was thinking about something else. "You're right. We'll be fine. I've appreciated you looking out for us all the same."

"It was no problem," Jade said quietly, and it was true. It had made her feel useful, at least, something she could do for someone else. Help them out, instead of just sitting there and being of no use to anyone. Even if it was only as a body guard, she was useful. But now she had something else she could do, something that Buffy had specifically asked for her to do. Made Jade a bit suspicious and maybe a little bit even unwilling to be compliant, but that had been overrun by curiosity about this 'mission' that Buffy had told Spike little about and Spike had told Jade even less.

"And you… you're doing alright?" Eddie said, his voice dropping to that same hushed, uncertain tone, green eyes flickering back from Henry to her. If Jade still had the extra blood flow to her cheeks, she would have blushed. She knew what he referred to, and it embarrassed her some. She practiced self-control so rigidly—had to now, with her new blood lust. Control was everything. But she had lost her composure, and Eddie had been there to witness it. A few weeks ago, when Spike had left Haven for the second time. The night that Spike had driven away to answer Buffy's beck and call. Jade had said, again that it was fine for him to leave—she could keep herself isolated, away from everyone just fine, while her chaperone was away. But she hadn't. Despite the danger to those around her, she had gone into town. Had seen Eddie, explained her possession. Had wanted to prove to herself that she didn't need someone looking over her shoulder, that she could control it on her own.

Or maybe she was looking for a fight.

Still, she had found Eddie without incident. Had stood at the doorway. Hadn't let him invite her in. Since being in Haven, she had only allowed Lyth to invite her in. But Lyth was a Mok'Tagar Demon. Easy teleportation poofs and no danger there. Or at least not enough danger to make Jade feel guilty. With Eddie however, that was a different story. He was a Werewolf, yes, but that didn't tell him ninety percent of the month. So no, she had sat on the porch instead, drank one of those blood-vodka bottles he supplied. Hadn't liked it. Still wasn't fond of alcohol, but she had drank it that night anyway. Something to drown out her misery. Spike and Buffy were official then. She shouldn't have been surprised, but hell if there was anything to combat the punch to her gut she was feeling. So somehow, and in a way she couldn't even blame being drunk for—her metabolism, fast as a human, faster even as a slayer, and more so as a Slaypire kept that for happening—she had begun spilling out her strife. Jade still cringed thinking about it. But she needed someone to confide in. She had tried Lyth but the Mok'Tagar Demon hadn't helped, offering advice that would work for Lyth, not Jade. Sleeping around or partying hard wouldn't quite take the hurt away, but at least Lyth had tried.

Still it wasn't enough, and it was one of those lonely moments, and Jade had embarrassingly started to cry, mumbling words that were likely increasingly unintelligible, and Eddie had leaned in to comfort her. A hug, From her ex-boss. A bit odd really, since he had never been touchy with her before, just respectful. And it had been nice, perhaps, until he had leaned in to kiss her. Maybe she wouldn't have been able to stop it as a human, or just let it happen, but Jade had seen it in slow motion. For one extremely lonely second, she considered it. But she couldn't. Eddie wasn't a replacement for Spike. Didn't work like that. And it wasn't her style. So she had stopped him, easily enough. He wasn't the forceful kind. And she had told him that that wasn't what she had come for. He'd apologized, numerous time, and after an awkward goodbye, she had fled. There was little mention of it now, which was for the best. It was still somewhat awkward at times, but less so with Henry around.

Later, she had thought about it much more, wondering if it would be the most expedient way to get over Spike, and that Eddie was actually a decent person—more than that, genuinely kind and giving. But she hadn't felt about Eddie the same way she had about Spike, and she wasn't about to pretend otherwise to make the healing process accelerate. No, she didn't need anyone. She didn't need to make any more mistakes. She could put it behind her, like she had worked putting Spike and Buffy behind her over the last weeks. And she would, soon.

"I'm doing great, thanks," She told him as sincerely as she could manage, working up a smile she hoped he would believe.

She watched them leave from behind the curtains, thankful that the sun wasn't completely on her at the time. It was getting later, in just a few hours it would be dark and she and Spike would be off to San Francisco.. For another one of those missions that might kill her—hey the last one did. She looked around the house again, the space that had grown smaller with the expanse of time, that had grown more rickety and worn down. But it was time to leave it. Time to head back to the Slayers, see Buffy again. And less of Spike.

 **A/N:** _Thank you for all the super positive support, so glad to see that people are still interested in Spike and Jade like I am :). Thank you to all the people who read and review, a special thank you to my most recent reviewers, BarbyChan4ever, LovingAnything, xXbriannaXx and Vivi H88 for giving me such lovely reviews to read. Really helps inspire me to write for you guys and not just myself (lot easier for me to disappoint myself than other people yesyes). I still have the next 2 chapters written, and since I finally have a day off tomorrow, the first in six days, I should be writing some mo' tomorrow as well. Sorry for any slowness, I know it's a lot of exposition and catch up in these chapters, but hopefully the action/excitement will come soon! Thank you again to all my readers._


	60. Chapter 59

**59**

Alright, so the talk hadn't been all fun and games with Lorne, but they rarely were. Though the green skinned demon didn't oppose to having visits from Spike—particularly when he had been accompanied by Jade, Spike could still tell that he wasn't willing to delve any deeper than superficial conversation. Whatever. Bloody fine with Spike, though Angel had been on on his case for a while to get something out of Lorne, probably to try to bring him back. But Spike was no messenger, and he wasn't a bloody delivery boy either. So he'd drink Lorne's booze, which was sometimes free and other times pretty cheap for the tasks he and Jade had done for the bar host. Wasn't the worse thing to get pissed on and was a hell of a lot cheaper than the other bars in town. Still caught a sight of that flighty Mok'Tagar Demon friend of Jade from time to time, and they mutually glared at each other from across the room. All high and mighty on the top of her rocker, looking down at him. Been like that since the beginning, since poker games where he just about cleaned of their money. Had done that more lately. Less to do, just those little patrols Jade liked doing, liked keeping herself handy, and it was all too bloody obvious she didn't want company so Spike had buggered off and done his own thing.

He had only gone back to see Buffy once. Told her he didn't like leaving Jade the Slaypire—whatever one-eyed man was calling it anyhow—alone for too long. Truth was, the hours he managed in Buffy's bed—completely dictated by her whammy schedule, and her tastes at the time, well they just left Spike confused. He remembered the best night of his life—couldn't forget that, now. Just holding her in his arms after he thought he never would even be allowed to touch her again. Held her and damn well went to sleep doing it. Was different now. Buffy wasn't so vulnerable, wasn't so scared. Had her whole army of Slayerettes at her back. She came to bed to finally relax, finally sleep. Didn't want to talk much with Spike, no none of that.

Spike didn't know what to think of it. Knew what he _should_ think of it, if he wasn't so barmy. Should remember that Buffy was all he had ever wanted. Hell, he'd loved her without a soul, went to _get_ one for her, she was the love of his unlife and that was all that it was to it.

Should have been, anyway. Now he wasn't so sure.

But the quick visits didn't tell him much—how could they. It'd be different now, they'd be there to stay, in deep with the rest of the Slayer pals, and he'd have more time with Buffy, and that'd settle it. Make it seem right. Because it was right. When Spike loved someone he loved them with his whole bloody self and not a piece left. And he had said he loved Buffy, no-one had ever believed him, but bloody hell he meant it. And here was his chance. Was going to prove it once and for all.

Jade was ready and waiting for him when he returned back, all her stuff pushed into a duffle. He could smell all the visitors she had had. That werewolf and his spawn, and the damn skin demon again. The sun wasn't quite down, and he could see her glancing at the one open window—far away from the light it cast, he'd give her a good yell if she was playing catch a tiger by the toe with the burning rays, but he could see her debating if it was late enough to load her things up into the car yet. Better to smoke a little than to sit in the empty house with him, no doubt.

He was used to people thinking all sorts of things about him—kick the Spike was a favorite pastime of most of the Scoobies. Had never gotten that from Jade. She still never was cruel to him face to face. Just gone, like a ghost. Unreachable a bit, like Dru was. Then again, Dru was crazy and _that_ was a bridge Spike hadn't quite been able to cross—completely. Just was just shutting him out, although he was used enough to that too. Had gotten that from Buffy since he met her. Had gotten it for a long ol' time until just over a month ago. Whatever the reason had been, Buffy had changed her tune right quick. Decided maybe there was a happily ever after—her cookie had baked—or whatever Angel always mumbled about, decided to give Spike a real chance. Seemed a bit out of the blue to him but as much as he knew Buffy, really knew Buffy, every facet of her, more than her friends ever did, she lived on the unpredictable. Maybe he should have seen it coming, maybe he had, but all her little games had thrown him off track. Maybe if he had really known her he wouldn't have been so surprised by Buffy's admission. That she wanted to give it a go. Painted Spike bloody surprised it did. Sometimes it still surprised him.

He just wished it stopped bloody confusing him.

"You done your visits then?" Spike asked casually. He had only one himself. Lorne was the only one in Haven he'd talked with over anything more than a game of pool or poker.

"Yeah. Well, all but the Orphanage. But that's alright. I saw them a few days ago. Told them I might be leaving." Jade answered, drawing her eyes away from the window's light for only a few seconds to meet his. Bird always tried to be polite. Didn't want to seem like she was talking to a wall.

"Want to visit the kiddies, then?" Spike drew her gaze again so he clarified. "Could stop by for a mo. Will still reach the big HQ 'fore the sun fries us."

Jade tugged on her hair, considering it. Her lip had twitched, almost into a smile at his consideration—and it was bloody considerate of him, he was nice, but not humble. Life was too short for that. Besides, he had too much to brag about. "No, should be okay. I think they're having a magic lesson today anyway." She shook her shoulders in a mock shudder. "They're working on floating pencils. That's one demonstration I'll pass on."

"They're still into the magic mojo then, are they?" Spike remembered them vaguely from the first time he had ever met Jade, and the subsequent visits after. The little kiddies had been all changed up to some magic pow wow circle, meant to be drained of their blood to shift these little hooded cult bads into pain in the arse demons. Couple of them had lost their lives, including one that Jade had been fond of, a little black girl whose name Spike could no longer remember. Not all of them had been lost though, and some of them had taken up witchcraft in the aftermath. Jade had encouraged it, though Spike wasn't sure why.

Magic gave him the creeps. Sure _he_ was unnatural, being dead and all, but magic was way worse. Did things that it shouldn't. Sure he had tried to use it a couple times—have someone use it for him, but it was unpredictable. And tended to make the user a bit barmy. Hell, he'd seen Willow, Willow the lover of all things nice and cute and the past wearer of fuzzy sweaters had nearly killed off the Niblet in a car accident when she had gotten up on the magic high. Sure it had its uses, but it could use someone too. Particularly the young kids. But Spike knew Buffy was interested in them too. Some potential allies for the ever growing Scoobie gang. Always thinking of the next generation, the next ones to carry the torch. She didn't want to do it forever, Spike knew. But still he didn't ever see her growing old and quiet out of the action—least not for long. As soon as the world got in peril again, something it seemed to do often, it'd drawn Buffy back into the mix. Always had.

The magic would draw _those_ kids back into the mix too. They were lucky to have escaped with their lives, but they hadn't quite forgotten what they'd seen. And that Orphanage wasn't exactly a bloody normal experience. He had come with Jade over the last month. Had to supervise her while she was around the kiddies, just as a precaution. She hadn't argued, and hell she was probably relieved, although Spike knew he couldn't really stop her if she wanted to take a chunk out of any of those little freaky kiddies. Still, she hadn't, just wanting to be around them again. Some had shied away from her new not-quite so alive status, but the two he recognized most, a little Chinese girl and a younger girl dealt with it easily enough, understanding Jade's new boundaries and kept their distance when they spoke to her. Well, the older kid was better with it, but she kept the younger one in line. Despite saying she didn't like children, they took to her well enough. Not all of them had been quite so accepting. She acted like it hadn't bothered her, but Spike knew better. Knew that she lived for the moments where she could forget for a moment, what had changed. He knew how wrong it must feel to her. Slayers were one sort of girl. The go hard, go strong, thirst for death and hope for the end isolated warriors. She got her death wish alright, the kind that every Slayer had. But she had come back. Like Buffy had. Twisted them up all inside, that their job wasn't done. Wouldn't ever be done. And Jade's was worse. She was what she hunted, a vampire. And might not have a expiry date. Might not have that ending every other one got. Yeah, he knew these things. Couldn't talk to her 'bout it. Couldn't get through that thick noggin of hers. Guess it was time to stop trying. If she wouldn't let him in then bloody fine with him. He'd let it go.

"Yeah. More so now. Really liking Madame Syeira's lessons. She's a bit… I don't know. Odd. I think they'd do well if Willow could come around. But they're learning at least."

"Oh I'm sure Red could make an army out of them if she put her head to it. Better not rush it." Spike shrugged, and Jade nodded.

"Yeah."

There weren't too many words he was getting out of her, but night came, maybe not quickly enough, but it was there, and in a blur, Jade had loaded her things and sitting in the passenger seat. At least this car had a working radio. They'd need it.

It was an uneventful and quite as hell drive up to San Francisco. Well, not that quiet. Spike blasted his tunes, which usually had the effect of ticking off his passengers, but Jade liked the same rock era as he did, even a few decades earlier, so she enjoyed the music, or at least pretended to, tapping her fingers off-beat as she always did.

And then they were there, rolling up to the large hotel that housed the Slayerettes. At least some of them. They moved all over the place, of to some crisis or another, but it was at least fairly easy to roll into the parking lot. Jade hoisted up her things easily, making a bloody b-line to the hotel, and Spike followed more slowly with less. He tasted the air, trying to get a whiff of Buffy. That'd cheer him up at least, seeing the perky blonde. And he knew she was close enough, though there were a hell of a lot of scents around her, like normal. Always surrounding herself with the other Slayers, never really alone but somehow bloody lonely. Curse of a Slayer.

He could see her hesitate a bit as they entered the threshold. The air was thick with a multitude of scents, sweat first and foremost, blood just beneath that. The aftermath of training. Spike had his share of cuts and bruises that he had inflicted and had taken when he had overseen some of the Super girls' sparring. Although he was more aware of it now for Jade's sake. Most of it was outside and in the basement, so it wasn't overwhelming as they entered the lobby, but he also knew she wasn't used to being near so many people. Probably over a hundred at the Hotel at any given time, though the lobby at least wasn't crowded, with just a few milling about. Those that were there, a group of girls in the corner that weren't much older than Buffy when Spike had had his first dance with her—the one between a Vampire and Slayer that is—talking among themselves. They noticed Jade, though she looked relatively normal still—hell she had always been pale, even though she was lacking those bright red cheeks. She didn't _look_ much different.

But it was different with Slayers. They could sense the change. Most of them got used to Spike after a while, not too many tried to beef with him, probably knowing that they'd get a bloody earful from Buffy. He wasn't sure how he quite felt about being the damn damsel in distress, but no-one dared disobey Buffy's word, or question her judgement. She declared Angel and Spike the 'good ones'—not that he had been thrilled about getting thrown in the same lot as that wanker either—and immediately challenged that whole mortal enemy ethos Slayers had in their very bones.

There were always exceptions. He had met some real ass of Slayers. Hell, Faith herself was all 'dark road' bad girl until her long walk back. And she was still a general, or would be, if she wanted it. Most of the time she was off with Angel and that little gang, but Spike wasn't too cut up about it. There was only so much of the gobby bird he could handle at one time.

He saw the Slayers' head turn in unison after the first noticed them. Their eyes landed on Spike first—to which he was used to. Intention from the ladies, particularly the young ones. The braver ones tried flirting with him, though he wouldn't let them forget that souled or not, vampires were dangerous. And most of them gave up quickly enough when they knew of Spike's history with Buffy. The whole lovesick, one-sided affection story of it, no doubt. None of the part where Buffy had wanted him too, Buffy had told him at one part that she loved him. Even if she didn't mean it. He had gotten those words. So no, he wasn't a pathetic git. Not completely. And he wasn't one at all now, was he? Got the girl. Most of them didn't see that coming. Near threw Xander off his rocker, it had. Was always defensive of Buffy, the one-eye was. Sure he had lusted after Buffy at one pointed, but now the arrogant arse had appointed himself a protective brother figure instead. Like Buffy needed it.

The appreciative glances thrown his way were mixed with curiosity, and then the realisation kicked in when they noticed he wasn't alone, that two vampires had walked into the mix. He was sure that they had heard about Jade, sure Buffy had thrown it out in one of her big speechy moments, and a couple of them looked old enough they might have been at the battle though Spike couldn't be sure who. All the baby Slayers blended in to him after a while. Well, 'cept for a few.

He could see Jade stiffen under their girls' scrutiny, her sure pace in the parking lot dithering off somewhat uncertainly. She had a habit of flicking her hair when she was nervous, and he saw her doing that now, though she couldn't quite tug on her short, perky ponytail so she tugged it out so it could tumble back 'round her neck. The little tells that Spike could see through, whether she was getting better at holding back her emotions or not, in times like these he could tell what she was thinking. And she was uncomfortable. Bet a bit of it was her own vampire nature now, souled or not. Spike had over a hundred years of thinking like that, thinking of Slayers as not just opponents, but a trophy. He'd taken two for himself, hadn't he? Not something he could brag about it now, but he was still aware of it when he was near them—and there were so many now.

"Nothing to worry 'bout, Bloody Mary," Spike spoke quietly to her, barely moving his lips, speaking quietly to her, something she could hear but no-one else could. Perks of vampire hearing. She glanced sharply at him, and he half expected to get snapped at—Buffy had never liked it when he tried to reassure her, but instead he got a grateful smile, just a little one, but that and a nod.

"Right. I wasn't worried," She said with that with her regular quirkiness, what Spike had been used to. No attempt to sound confident when she wasn't, poking fun at herself instead. The broad was good at that, able to laugh at herself. Spike missed that, light easy banter. No holding herself so serious. Holding herself back. "I'm sure they were all told about the 'no staking' rule."

"I don't think you have to worry about them getting that close. 'Least not with the pointy end."

"So reassuring," Jade teased, her relaxed smile almost hiding the fact her eyes still rapidly combed over the length of the room and the way her head tilted towards the group of girls, listening. He could hear them too. Hell, he had gotten quite good at filtering out all the stupid things mortals tended to yammer about, but wasn't so easy for Jade. Still knew enough she heard everything, and the bird was sensitive.

"Is that the—"

"The Slaypire. Xander says—"

"Oh, Xander, Xander. Can't go five minutes without mentioning Mr. Harris can you, Claud."

"Oh shut up, Therese!"

"Quiet both of you. And stop talking so loud. She can probably hear you."

"Creepy. I hope we get put on a mission soon. Don't fashion sharing a roof with _that_."

"Fashion, who says fashion anymore, your mom?"

"I think Dahlia's right. Keep a stake handy, girls."

"Always do."

By the way the smile slipped from Jade's face, replaced by an impassive mask, Spike knew she had heard the titters—as barely decipherable as they were, mixed with giggles and groans and sighs. Noisy little birds, but they were young. Young and not yet tempered, and not a bloody clue about the real world. Shouldn't have ticked him off but it did. They were just arrogant naïve little girls but they needed to be careful about what they said around a vampire. Had to learn that sooner or later.

"Jade, you're here." Finally, a friendly tone in all of them, and there was Willow, coming into view, with that long red hair on top of equally dark red clothes. Seemed like a theme was going on there, but she looked nice, greeting Jade with a smile that Jade echoed with some relief. And then there was Kennedy, slinking not too far behind, with her dark eyes so obviously focused, less friendly as her counterpart, but that wasn't bloody new. Willow bounced up towards Jade, her arms partly outstretched, as to give her a hug, then stopped hard a few feet away. "Right, sorry. It's great to see you again. Guess I should still watch the closeness though huh?"

"You're fine," Jade assured her. "I can handle a hug. It's the Carrie like buckets of blood on my head that we should try to avoid." Still, she made no effort to reach out for Willow, and the witch respected the distance. Didn't want to push her. Keep contact to a minimum for the next bit. Smartest that way.

"No hullo for me, Red?" Spike teased, and Willow rolled her eyes at him.

"I saw you last time, Spike. Haven't seen Jade since—well…"

"Four months," Jade said instead. "Thank you, by the way. For your spell."

"Oh, no problem. Wish I could have done more. Glad it worked. Wish I knew how to make it work again," Willow rambled, her thinking cap back on that scarlet hair on hers as she tucked back a loose lock.

"I think Buffy wanted to see you on arrival," Kennedy cut in instead, patting her lover's hand before the witch could burst into a long theoretical tirade. "Come on this way."

They were being lead down one of the hallways, passing the ogling group of whispering girls, to which Spike only managed a quick glare before they swept past. There were a few more Slayers still in the halls, though it looked like most of the younger ones had headed back to bed. They had made good time getting to San Francisco from Haven, but it was still late. Kiddies needed to stop watching the show and get some shuteye. That is, for as long as they were actually able to get some sleep during the night hours. Soon, it'd be when they'd be at their busiest. Night owls, each one of them, for that's when the things at night were up and lurking.

They had turned swiftly around one of the corners, towards the stairs when suddenly there was a thud of a door as it opened and a quick form hurtled itself out of the doorway. A quick, but small form, short and stubby and the adopted daughter of Willow, Tara's relative, Sophie. She careened out into the hall and right towards Jade. Spike flexed, ready to move, a defensive scowl marking Kennedy's face as fear colored Willow's expression. All three of them tensed, frozen and watching the scene ahead of them. He could see Jade tense too, as her head had flashed towards the door and the recognition that flickered over her expression to replace the startled one. But she moved first—she was faster than all of them, after appearing to take a relaxing breath she didn't need, Jade slunk down to her knees, to the same level as the child. Kennedy had begun to reach down to Jade—to keep her at bay? As if she bloody well could. Spike had faced Jade enough times under the guise of training her, but some of it was just learning her strengths and weaknesses. Seeing if he _could_ beat her. And he hadn't so far. If she didn't want to be defeated then she wouldn't. So he had little faith in Kennedy being able to do anything, ready or not. All his faith was in Jade. He wouldn't have brought her here if she wasn't ready, so while Red prepared some counterspell, and Kennedy moved in for physical force, Spike didn't move.

He trusted her.

"Jade!" Trilled the child, unaware of the danger, careening into the arms of who could be a very dangerous predator. But instead she was unsteadily flapping her outstretched arms for a hug. He watched Jade hesitate, her eyes not moving from the child as the tiny arms reached Jade's shoulders and grappled for a grip. As if Jade was taking a breath to steady herself, she swept a slow, careful arm around the small form, bringing the child closer and halting Sophie's clumsy struggles. The child let out a happy, quiet squeal as she rested her head in the curve of Jade's shoulder and neck. Jade was stiff as a statue, one hand helping keep Sophie steady, but also very loose. Not wanting to trap the child in, not wanting to test herself any more than she already had. And Spike, Spike was bloody proud, particularly at watching the warning scowl on Kennedy's face as the arrogant bird contemplated breaking the two up, and Willow's gentle but firm hand on her lover stopping any interference from the Slayer. If the Witch trusted Jade with her adopted child, then that was a bloody win in Spike's book.

"Hey Soph." Jade said, her voice remarkable steady, although Spike could see how the hand at her side had clenched into a tight, tight ball, and she seemed relieved when Sophie released her and tumbled back a few feet. "Didn't expect to see you up so late."

"I heard you was coming," Sophie tittered with a wide, slightly gap toothed smile.

"You should be in bed, sweetie," Willow chastised gently.

"And _not_ running into the arms of vampires," Kennedy muttered a bit more darkly, her eyes narrowed a bit, Sophie's smile falling off of her cherub face as she looked between her two makeshift guardians, disquieted by the disproving atmosphere.

"It's fine," Willow said, a bit sharply, shooting a quick look at Kennedy in reproval. "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetie." She reassured Sophie, whose soft blue eyes had begun to glisten. Soft, that was definitely something she had in common with her aunt, the long gone Tara, who was far too gentle a soul for this bloody world. Never had much of a problem with Spike, and he was hard pressed to find anything wrong with the gentle witch. "Besides, Jade wouldn't hurt you. Maybe though, might be better to give her a warning next time."

Jade gave a little nod in agreement. "But it's nice to see you," She reassured the small girl, whose eyes were still blinking away the bright glistening tears.

"We'll get you back to bed. Kennedy can help Jade and Spike the rest of the way." Willow said, kneeling in front of Sophie and taking the child's smaller hand in her own. She didn't so much as look at the Slayer in question, and Kennedy's mouth scrunched a bit in disproval and then rolled a shoulder.

"Yeah, that's fine. Say your goodnights then." She directed that to Jade, who knelt back beside Sophie.

"They said you might be… different." Sophie mumbled to Jade quietly, pushing back some light blonde hair from her face.

"A little," Jade murmured back quietly, looking back at Sophie's soft eyes with equally blue ones. She looked human there, a little vulnerable, a little careful.

"You're still good though," Sophie said quietly, with a shy smile that bloomed brighter after a heartbeat. "I can tell."

Jade smiled back, grateful, giving another little wave as Willow ushered Sophie back inside her room. The two of them fell back in step behind Kennedy as she took off ocne more as the guide, this time a bit quicker and sullenly quietly—didn't take a bloody genius to tell that Kennedy didn't agree with Willow on all things Sophie. Most things, likely. But wasn't a fellow's business, even if it was a bit of a pleasure to see Kennedy slinking away and little quiet Red in the driver's seat. Only so much a Slayer could stand up to a witch like Willow. Kennedy certainly couldn't, though she drove herself around like she was top brass. That was Buffy's seat. Would be for a while yet. Faith hadn't been able to take it from the blonde and no-one else would either. Not 'til she decided it was time to move on.

Jade had fallen in step beside Spike, quiet again, her eyes blank as she stared at the floor.

"Super girl," Spike called to her, and Jade looked up, blinking away whatever thoughts had been littering in her head. "Had the girls trembling in their skivvies, nearly. And you proved them all wrong. Proved me wrong too. You were ready to come here. That little girl all safe and sound and being tucked into her bed with Willow there 'cause you are strong enough." His words had dropped, so much that Kennedy glanced back at them with irritation that she couldn't hear the vampires. Good on her. Wasn't for her anyway, the noisy bird. It was for Jade, whose eyes glittered at him with gratitude.

"Thank you." She said quietly, and that was it. And that was all that needed to be say, paired with that smile that was actually bloody genuine. And he had meant it, each word, not just to get her to raise up that drooping chin of hers, but to believe it. Was nice to have a little faith in someone that actually bloody paid off. And he had picked well in her. And cheered that bird enough to get a smile.

 **AN:** _Thank you again for reviews and reading! Yes, I know I've delayed the Jade-Spike once again, by him now being with Buffy, but it's all part of the plots! I always made this story with a show format in mind, with arcs, and in Joss Whedon style, sure takes anyone forever to get together and then bring on the heartbreaking twists. I promise someday, the Spike-Jade will come! And completely meant to post this chapter yesterday but I had so little time I just barely got my Nanowrimo word count of the day and then shut the computer off and went to bed. So here it is, and the next two chapters are still written._


	61. Chapter 60

**60**

The last meters went by slowly. Partly due to Jade dragging her feet. There was no way she would _want_ to rush to this meeting. She'd had enough time to try to prepare herself, but she couldn't really. She could dream up a hundred scenarios in which she didn't look like a complete moron, where she knew exactly what to say in each instance and sounded completely put together and perfectly serene. But as soon as something was said that wasn't in her agenda, there began the stammering and uncertainty. And humiliation. She wondered if she knew. If Buffy knew that mere hours before she had called up Spike and persuaded him to head all the way to San Francisco with no notice that Spike had kissed Jade. A real kiss too, not the sort of save the world, 'might die today' kisses. They'd had those. No, it was a real one. And that conversation that they could have had about it, well that was interrupted by one rude phonecall by Buffy. Where she had called Spike away.

Well, to be fair, Spike had asked Jade if she wanted him to stay. But Jade had heard every word of the call—vampire hearing never felt more like a curse than it had then—heard the way Buffy had asked for Spike. Not just a social call, but a serious one. And hell, she had known how Spike felt about Buffy. Got his soul for her, died for her, yeah, it was hard to go anywhere without proof of Spike's one-sided attraction to the Vampire Slayer general.

Not so one-sided any more. Unfortunate for Jade. Buffy had snapped her fingers and Spike had come running.

But he had asked first. His eyes, so blue, for once looking a little loss, confused as he peered back into the room where she had been waiting, his hand still around his cellphone. She had heard his words.

" _Come. Now. Can you?"_

"' _Course."_

Succinct, to the point. Hard to misread those words, interpret them some way other than eager. But he'd still asked her. Of course she had told him to go. Wouldn't make him stay after how long he had waited for this—she didn't even know how long—just because she needed a babysitter. No. She told him she'd be fine, fine for a night without supervision.

She wondered if she'd still have said the same thing knowing what she knew now. How he came back, rife with the smell of Buffy, something like sunshine and some sort of fruit. That was Buffy alright. And it hurt, and they hadn't talked about it and Jade still didn't want to. But she couldn't stop thinking about it and she wished she could. And here was the big reminder, as Kennedy knocked on the door, hearing Buffy's slightly muffled, "Come in," from the other side. Muffled to a human, clear to Jade, she could almost picture Buffy before the door opened, and there was Buffy, standing in the middle of the hotel room.

"Good. You made it." Buffy said matter-of-factly, her eyes shifting first from to Spike and then centering on Jade. At least she wasn't making a statement—locking lips with Spike as a greeting would have been a little bit too much for Jade to handle. Oh, alright. She could handle it. Handle it like she handled everything, but it wasn't easy. Wasn't effortless.

Even the surprise greeting from Sophie had rifled her feathers a bit. Fast reactions, quick reflexes, but quick senses too. Could smell the little heartbeat, and the blood underneath her skin as pudgy little Sophie had waddled over to her. It had moved so quickly, even for her, and Jade knew that Willow would take her down in an instant before Jade could even finish vamping out. So maybe that kept her level, knowing there was an actual threat there. But she liked to think she hadn't needed it. She had clenched her fist so tight that snapping a bone had been easy, and from there she had pulled herself together for a hug, focusing on the pain twinging in her finger—first just one, and then three to keep her steady, and not the flush color of Sophie's little cheeks. The fact she was even tempted disgusted Jade, but she knew it was just a hunger impulse. It'd be a hell of a long time before she could control it completely, so beating herself up about it didn't help. But it was pathetic to her, to see the little girl and for a second, imagine how she tasted.

She'd get better. She had to. Angel had taken a year. Spike's transition to non-human blood bags had been a little technologically induced, and Jade was a Slayer-Vampire. Not exactly equal test results across the board. There was no research, no approximate time. It'd take her as long as it take her to quell it completely.

Until then, she had her healing bones to rely on, and it'd be enough.

"I wanted to thank you, firstly." Buffy said, down to business. "That's all for now, Kennedy. Thanks for being the welcome wagon."

Jade watched Kennedy's eyes narrow a bit at being dismissed, but the Slayer tossed her hair indifferently. "I have things to do anyway. Slayers been a bit slacking since Vi left. Although she's too easy on them anyway. They like sleeping at night. Unlucky them, I'm around."

"Thanks. Keep them on their toes." Buffy called at Kennedy as the younger Slayer turned heel and left. "Here, come on sit down. Anywhere you can find a seat that isn't pointy." There was definitely a small armory in the room, weapons littered from the wall to the floor, open chests. And an alarming pile of shoes in the corner. Jade scuffed her single pair of sneakers self-consciously. She thought about how Buffy would be if they hadn't been called as Slayers. Likely all these weapons would be clothes instead, small purses, maybe big enough for a Chihuahua. The shoe pile would probably be the same, at least. Maybe bigger. A desire for style was something Jade definitely lacked. Big, comfy clothes had been her friend—and still were—during patrols in her younger days. Pen would have berated her for anything less. Had to keep her hair short and tied back so it couldn't be a weapon. Long nails would have been alright, if only for another weapon.

"Lord, luv, isn't this what the barrack's for?" Spike said, sweeping an arm across the base of a chair and pushing the array of daggers to the floor before lounging back in the seat—after one more careful look. He was being casual, and Buffy shot a look at him, but it didn't quite have the venom that Jade had seen a few times. No, this one was followed by the smallest of smiles—Jade looked away, busying herself with clearing the sofa enough for her to sit down.

"Each Slayer's gotta have her own private collection." Buffy said with a shrug, sitting carefully at the edge of her bed, half leaning off of it. She always seemed put together, her blonde hair cascading casually down one shoulder, with a natural curl at the ends, but mostly straight at the top, something Jade's hair never did, look naturally pretty without any excessive effort on her part. Didn't seem that way with Buffy, who blinked behind large, captivating green eyes, who was curvier and all around more attractive looking. At least in Jade's opinion. And Spike's too, that was obvious enough. The petty comparison wasn't helping anything, but Jade couldn't help herself. Couldn't help but look at Buffy and understand completely why Spike had chosen the Slayer instead. The leader of Slayers, the oldest, strongest, quickest. Who was living, breathing and alive, something that Jade wasn't. Wouldn't be again. Not to mention the weight Jade held around her neck, a bomb waiting to go off. A danger. That's what she was, compared to Buffy. Barely anything at all.

"You going to tell us what the big derrin' do is, then?" Spike asked after a few more comments passed between the two of them, and Jade scrunched her fingers awkwardly during. But at his question, her head jerked back up, equally curious. "What you needed an undead for, and not yours truly?"

"Yes. Not yet. Patience, Spike. Something I wanted to try first, before spilling the deets." Buffy wrinkled her nose a bit at her word usage and then turned her head back towards Jade. "I do have something I need you for that I can't send anyone else for, and I promise I'll have the big tell-all tomorrow. It's… voluntary, of course." Buffy frowned. "But important, I promise."

"I can wait until tomorrow," Jade answered, receiving a brilliant smile from Buffy, the answer the blonde had been looking for, though the curiosity was getting to Jade.

"Great. It's just the idea was Xander's, and he'd kill me if I blabbed it myself. Said he doesn't get enough good ideas for me to take it away from him."

"All well and good, but—"

" _But_ ," Buffy interrupted the blonde vampire. "I know you're new to the whole vampire thing. And I know you did it to save us. And I'm totally grateful. Did not want to be turned into a—" Buffy stopped half-way through her word at Spike's sharp clearing of his throat. "I mean, thanks. You helped a lot of people. Saved the world, even. I mean, yeah, you get used to that part after a while, being a Slayer and all. But doesn't mean it's not a big deal. It was. So thanks. But before we give you this big mission, well. I was hoping you'd agree to a little training exercise."

* * *

Jade regretted it immediately. Her mouth felt dry, and the jar of blood she had just downed hadn't helped clear that up. Plus now she was paranoid someone had seen her drink it, even if she had ducked into her private hotel room to drink it, or maybe she had some blood dripping down her chin now and someone would call her out on it. But she needed her strength up and her hunger way down, so it had been a necessity. Needed it for what was going to happen next.

"Alright, listen up. I'm going to call out a few of you." At least she had gotten some hours of sleep. It was daylight now, and early, so they were in the basement training area, and Buffy was speaking in front of a large crowd. Probably most of the Slayers in the building. They were gathered around her, but they could see Jade on the other side of the training mat, waiting, and there were no shortage of people turning around to see her, whispering as they did so.

She always wanted to be a spectacle. Except not really.

And she cringed thinking of earlier, when Buffy had broached her with the idea in the first place. That she'd pick people. Eight in fact, and thank god she hadn't blushed but Jade had tripped over her words so badly that Spike had to finish her request for her. What humiliation that had been, asking Buffy to pick those 'not on their time of the month.' And that had been Spike's way of wording it, seeing Jade's embarrassment, he'd leaned in and finished the sentence for Buffy's benefit. And Jade had felt like crawling into a hole and dying when Buffy's first reaction had been to wrinkle her nose and declare "Ew," to which Jade could only numbly agree.

"Bit distracting, you get that, yeah?" Spike had said, and once Buffy saw the expression on Jade's face, she'd cleared the judgement and promised she'd deal with it. Glad that was over, but it still made her want to cringe thinking about it, though she couldn't help her request. Vampire, sense of smell. Bloodlust. She had to ask, and it was obvious that Buffy hadn't thought of it.

"You're jittery like a rabbit," Spike drawled, and Jade jumped. From her focus on the crowd of Slayers, she hadn't even seen him come up, but there he was, out of the shadows, dressed in his normal black, although a loose long sleeved shirt that wrinkled a bit around his elbows but was plenty tight around his chest and shoulders. Something she needed to ignore. He seemed less imposing without his long duster.

 _Probably left up in Buffy's room_ , Jade thought to herself, a bit too scathingly. He smelled like her, and the few hours that Jade had gotten of sleep, Spike obviously hadn't been alone. Of course not. She hadn't expected that much when she had left Buffy and Spike the night previous. But it wasn't the time to bitterly ask him if he had a good sleep or turn her back on him, because the truth was, she felt very alone standing there, waiting for Buffy to finish her speech, until he had come. Now she felt relaxed somehow, better.

"That obvious?" Jade asked before the time ran out to say anything back. She couldn't think of anything better.

"You didn't have to agree to this. Don't owe them a thing," Spike was telling her.

"I know." Jade nodded. And she did. "It'll be fine. Might even be fun."

At that, Spike grinned, showing those teeth of his that were just a little pointed, like his vampire was showing through. "I know I'd have some fun. Nothing like throwing around little miss highs and mightys when they think they're at the toppa the world."

Jade smiled back, fighting back her nerves a bit. Hard not to, with how nonchalant and casual Spike was. _He_ would enjoy it. Make a game out of it. But then her worries sank back in and she frowned. "What if I hurt them?"

"You won't."

"Heat of the moment, trying not to get my ass kicked, it's definitely possible." Jade insisted.

"You never hurt me, luv." Spike reminded her, serious right back. Then he shrugged."And they can take a beating. Bit of good for the all of you. You, big bad, get to work on that control a bit. And they get their arses beat. And I get a good bit of entertainment."

"True," Jade said, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Don't fret yourself about it too much, Super girl. Vampires can still get worry lines, you know."

Jade couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Really?"

"Yeah, just take a look at ol' Peaches forehead and you'll see. He got brooding lines all over him."

Jade laughed again, amused. "How many did she say I was going to fight? Six?"

"Eight. Practice for those squads. And newbies, all of them. It'll be cake."

"How much… should I hold back?" Jade asked.

Spike contemplated. "More than when you're with me. Half. Don't be afraid to give them a couple good whacks. And they _will_ survive a broken leg. Won't even put them out of commission that long. Good ol' Slayer blood."

Jade blanched. "I'll try to avoid that."

"Alright," Buffy had reached near the end of her strategy session and speech. "The rest of you, take your notes. Just because you won't be fighting a Slaypire today doesn't mean you don't need to prepare for it. I'll pick eight. The rest of you get to sit back and watch."

Jade watched as the large crowd moved off to the side of the mats, and slowly, as their names were called, the chosen of the chosen began to walk onto it. Jade didn't recognize them, none of Buffy's top elites at least, none that Jade recognized until the fourth name.

"Bailey," Buffy called out, and Jade shook her head in slight disbelief. It was the Slayer who had come to Haven all those months ago, raring for a fight. She still had a cocky smirk on her now as she strolled up to Jade, and Jade had a feeling that Buffy had picked Bailey to help stifle that arrogance of hers.

"Hey, Jade. Ready for round two?" Bailey's smug face, looking like she was taunting her, but there was something good natured behind it as well. Bailey had been one of the Slayers taken by Mandy the Slaypire, one of those who would have perished with the rest, soul lost forever.

"Always," Jade said, trying to copy the brash confidence, but her smile probably looked more like a grimace. At least Bailey was more prepared this time. The ugg boots were gone, replaced by some sports brand—lulu lemon perhaps. The long brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail. She looked more serious, more ready. And she was more at ease than the other Slayers at her side, who hadn't taken their eyes off of Jade.

"Not sure I need the entourage though," Bailey commented, glancing to her right, a dark skinned girl with short, curly hair and large black eyes. Vibrant purple eyeshadow colored the girl's eyelids, a look that Jade could never pull off, but made the girl look alluring and intense.

"Shut up, Bailey." The girl responded. She had been the second one called, Leanne or Brianne, Jade couldn't quite remember, looking to the next one down the line, this one named Kelsey.

Skinny, with a deep red hair and a pushed back hairline, she walked up with the same confidence that Bailey had exuded, snapping some gum, an immediate turn off. Likely another one who needed an arrogance check.

"James." Buffy called next, and Jade frowned. She supposed there were plenty of nicknames, but—no, the person who walked up and joined the Slayers was definitely a boy. Sixteen, maybe seventeen, with dark brown hair that was half in front of his face, so much that he had shook his chin twice during the walk. He had two piercings in his bottom lip, one on each side, equidistant from the other. His skin was paler, hair dark, and bright green eyes. He walked differently from the others, quietly. But he was definitely standing with the other Slayers, and Jade wondered why.

"I thought this was just for Slayers?" Jade couldn't help but asking, and James' eyes snapped up to meet hers, from where they had trailed nearer to the floor.

"Am a Slayer." He said, his voice soft, but a bit determined as he visible straightened his shoulders and stood taller, trying to look sure of himself, maybe believing it.

"You are?" Jade was so astonished she missed the next two names called, staring at the boy in front of her. Still a teenager, a few inches taller than Bailey, couple shy of six. He wasn't overly bulky but he was buff, muscular. Like most Slayers. And he did have that look in his eyes. But there had never been a boy Slayer—not ever. And this news was so surprising to her she was wondering why no-one had ever said anything before. The first boy Slayer in all the Slayers? That seemed to her worthy of some title action.

James shifted his feet now, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Yeah," He mumbled, voice still quiet. Beside him, the girl called just before, Kelsey, began to laugh.

"You should see your face, Slaypire. It's priceless," Kelsey said arrogantly. Jade could see Spike frown from where he stood behind her, but even before he could make a quip, Bailey, surprisingly was first.

"That's Jade to you." Bailey snapped back.

"Whatever. It's funny. James is a Slayer, but he's not the first boy." Kelsey popped her lips. "He's not even a boy. Born a girl. Get it now?"

Oh. Jade did get it. She looked back at James, who didn't seem pleased at all by Kelsey's interruption, but more disheartened than anything. And not surprised at all. Must not have been the first time this had happened, not at all. Used to the shock on peoples' faces, followed by the judging.

"Didn't like the name Jessie, I guess," Kelsey was continuing to snicker, getting a smile from a few of the girls standing around her. Not Bailey, Jade noticed, who was just rolling her eyes instead. "She wanted a change."

James looked more demoralized by the moment, and Jade wasn't standing for it. No, she didn't get many jumping in to remind people that she was more than just a Slayer-Vampire, but hell, even if Bailey had said something, there was no way that Jade was staying quiet. Not when what Kelsey saying wasn't right.

"He." Jade interrupted. Kelsey's head turned towards her, probably affected by the coldness in Jade's tone. "James. He. I mean I'm keeping up, and I just learned that thirty seconds ago."

"But she's not really—"

"It's he. And he is the first boy Slayer."

"Whatever. James doesn't even have the proper _junk_ ," Kelsey drawled, impertinent, blushing a bit now. Bailey leaned over towards Kelsey so that her smirk could be seen easily. "Just changing your name doesn't make you a boy."

"He was born into the wrong body is all. Born a girl, but the potential to be a boy. Like you weren't always a Slayer. But you are now. You were always meant to be one."

"That's a stupid analogy."

"Well then, find a way it makes sense to you. But James is a boy. And I bet he works his ass off."

"One of the best young fighters here," The girl who had told Bailey to shut up said, Leanne-Brianne. Kelsey rolled her eyes, shrugging a shoulder.

"Whatever," Kelsey said, using the famous fallback word for 'I have nothing intelligent to say.' But jade at least felt accomplished. She glanced back at James, suspecting maybe a grateful smile, but there was nothing but burning determination. No thanks there. She guessed she could understand that. He didn't want someone fighting his battles for him. But he hadn't seemed willing to raise his voice to his own cause, so Jade had stepped in, this time.

The names were done getting called, and Buffy walked over, next to Jade, next to Spike.

"Lots of those Slayers over there would kill for this practice," Buffy reminded them. "Try not to waste it. And try to be a good sport if you lose. Sometimes there are battles you just can't beat. And in those cases. Best to run."

"We allowed to use stakes, then?" Kelsey asked curtly.

"Sure. The plastic kind." Buffy said, and a started handing them out from the bag in her hand. "If you don't mind," Buffy commented as an afterthought towards Jade. "Makes it a bit more real."

Jade winced but shrugged. "That's fine."

Spike groaned. "Those hurt like a bugger, by the way." He rubbed at a phantom pain in his chest, over his heart, and Jade wondered if that's where he'd been hit by one before.

"More than having someone's hand burst through my ribcage?" She asked lightly, almost teasing. That time when she had been lost, confused, devastated. He'd drug her out of her stupor by pulling her to the shower. Turning up the heat so she could be warm again. Then literally punched a whole through her chest, cradling her heart in his fingers. Holding it. Making it beat. Now that, _that_ had hurt. If she could handle that, and she had, she knew she could handle this too. After all, Spike had only gotten that close because she had let him. She wasn't planning on being that charitable this time around.

Buffy handed out the rest of the stakes, glancing at her chosen slayers back to Jade, hesitating one more time as if asking permission. Jade had a more bitter thought about that, but she swallowed it back down. Had to stay in the moment. She nodded, ready.

"Alright, let's see what you got." Buffy said, to her chosen, but Jade couldn't help but feel this was a display of her own abilities as well. What the Slaypires could do. Buffy jerked her head, and then with a glance at Spike, the two of them backed away off the mat, accompanied by a few 'oo's and 'cute couple'. Jade tried to shut it out. Wouldn't exactly help her focus.

Wordlessly, the Slayers began to spread out, nearly equally spaced as they surrounded Jade, a large circle. Smart, against one big opponent, keep her looking around, someone always at her back.

Was also a lot easier to use the Slayers against each other too. And she knew they weren't a well oiled machine. Weren't that used to fighting with each other probably, some with massive egos in the way, some uncertain. A small mousy girl with large circular glasses, her hair cut short, a slim, tiny figure that hadn't seemed thrilled to be picked, just nervous. She had a short, upturned nose, and eyebrows hidden by the mass of her bangs and the frame of her glasses. She had fallen into formation with the rest of them, but she wouldn't initiate. Jade had picked a few that would likely lead the fight, the big mouthed girls, the ones that hadn't taken their eyes off Jade this entire time, James, who was determined to prove himself.

She had learned how to read her opponents. Spike had taught her that. He was the one that was good at it, more observant than anyone ever pegged him as. But jade had taken him seriously, had envied and admired that ability and had tried very hard to emulate it. He'd be able to tell more, tell what fighting styles they favored, hell, even Spike could put up a fight against a couple of young Slayers, even this maybe. Win? Probably not. But Jade could.

After all, there had to be some benefits to her new unlife.


	62. Chapter 61

**61**

"You seem nervous," Buffy commented to him. Spike glanced at her sharply, as if she was barmy, but she wasn't far off the mark. Still, he covered that with denial as he often did. And this time in particular, he didn't want to seem like he was having doubts with Jade. Expecting her to paint the walls with her enemy's blood and all that. After all, there was such a sizeable chunk of Slayers in here, he doubted she could even kill a couple before she was overrun. Even her. Some of the bigwigs were here, Kennedy, and Buffy of course. He had no doubt there were some fully loaded tranq guns—or just as likely deadly crossbows—at the ready and nearby in case something _did_ happen.

Spike knew that. Jade knew that. But he also knew Jade didn't need that to keep in line. She could hold her head, even in battle.

At least, he hoped so.

"Not a tick, luv." Spike denied in a casual drawl, although his eyes didn't leave Jade as she and the others settled in on the mat. Jade was standing easily, her arms at her sides, looking harmless almost. Waiting for them to attack. She liked defense, that one. Would rather use the mistakes of her opponent against them, rather than making her own on an aggressive move. Careful, calculating. When her compassion didn't get in the way. There were plenty of times she could have gotten a good hit in but hesitated. But she'd get punished more here, against little Super girls who didn't want to look like prats in front of the bigwig. But they did, mostly, small children all of them, didn't get that real introduction to danger like the Slayers before them. The ones who had been alone. None of this grouping up, relying on each other. All they had were themselves. That's how they faced death and bloody lived or died from it. Stronger Slayers from those days. Buffy knew. The last of her solo generation, one chosen girl against the big bads and all that. These new ones knew barely a thing, giggling and laughing to each other and rarely taking it seriously.

And now some of that lot surrounded her. They didn't talk to each other. As they shouldn't, even the little whispers could be heard loud and clear. Not real stealthy that way, be just the same as telegraphing their intentions to their opponents. Some watched her more carefully than others. That boy—first time Spike had seen him either, given him a bit of a surprise til he heard the explanation, same as the others. Sure, Spike was from an old fashioned era where such a thing should have gave him pause, but he'd also been a demon for over a hundred years, grappled with that lot of demons, and he'd things a lot stranger than someone declaring their gender different. Hell there were demons that could change their sex at whim.

Made it bloody confusing.

But there was Jade, defending the boy, as he knew she would. Had a weakness for the underdogs. She'd test him, Spike knew. Probably try to make him look good. Jade was soft-hearted like that.

"If you say so," Buffy answered him skeptically, but she leaned towards him as she said it, not always hardball, though most of the time she kept a great deal of distance between the two of them so she didn't have to deal with giggles and teases. But it wasn't like it was a secret, him and her. She didn't have to treat it like one.

His attention snapped from Buffy back to the fight as the first blow was thrown. One of the girls—the one with the big-o forehead, Kelsey or whatever the broad's name was, she dashed forward undulating some ear-rending war cry, and Jade seemed to just stand there and take it when suddenly she was gone. Spike could see the Slayers' heads near snapping as they turned to keep up with Jade. Spike had more practice at tracking her movements, better than the rest of them. Jade was easy on them, due to their disorientation. She appeared behind a unsuspecting Slayer and shoved her towards the rest. The next stepped up to Jade, who stayed long enough to block the blows with ease, sending a few stakes clattering to the floor.

That was her goal so far, Spike noticed. Jade hadn't attacked any of the Slayers with an actual offensive move, she'd rather keep them from hurting her instead. Wasn't surprising. Defense was her favorite play. And she definitely didn't fancy being stabbed with those stakes. Spike didn't blame her. They bloody hurt.

"So where'd you get those plastic stakes from anyway. An Vampire Lovers rally?" Spike questioned Buffy, leaning in so that his lips touched that damnably soft blonde hair. She flicked her head with some irritation. He wasn't kidding about the rallies. Since ol Harmony came out and spilled the beans about Vampires there had been a surprising amount of support. Ignorant groupies, in Spike's opinion. But there had been plenty throughout time. Been some the very first year he'd met Buffy. Thought they had a chance to 'ascend' if they worshipped enough. Like the bloody darkness responded to that with anything but scorn. Don't feel the need to upgrade an ant. In fact, there had only been a handful that Spike had turned himself—he didn't count the ones that the Ancient had made him do, except when he wanted more guilt on his plate—and most of them had been at Dru's crooning.

"Had Riley get some. The military's pretty useful sometimes. Guess they know if they can't beat us, get out of our way and lend us a hand."

Spike shuddered. "Never going to trust those prats. Always some secret agenda."

A tiny smile creased her lips. "Don't worry. Explicit no-no to chipping you again. Just small deals from time to time. When they have some bad they can't handle."

Spike's comment hadn't left his lips when there was a flurry of movement that drew back his eyes. The Slayers were tighter and tighter around Jade, until she had flipped over them in an easy, high bounding jump, landing her safely on the mat. There was no trapping her anywhere, she could free herself at any time. Jade had another stake in her hand, and tossed it carefully at one of the Slayers as they advanced back towards her. The Slayer caught it, but slowed down to do so, and Jade stood her ground to meet the rest. A flurry of punches, movement, Jade was keeping herself level with them now, instead of making them follow her around. The little Barbie-Bailey one was a flurry of punches, tenacious and throwing punch after punch. Jade would sweep a leg around to push some of them off, but for the most part, she was gentle with them. Not playing with them, but not challenging them either. Then Jade's hand shot out, fast as lightning, reaching around and gripping someone's neck. It was as if the room held their breath, Jade included as she froze for a second, relaxing her fingers as someone stabbed her in the back with the stake.

Spike hadn't realised he was moving until he realised Buffy had reached out to hold his forearm, keeping him there. Jade had let out a small roar, like the Vampire she was, pulling out the stake and pushing back the one who had hit her, the black skinned girl with short hair. She flew again, this time to the other side of the mat, a couple drops of blood following her. She dropped the bloodied stake at her feet and kicked it away, and Spike could tell by Jade's shifting pose that she'd be taking it more intensely now, instead of being so afraid. The Slayers _could_ take a beating, and hell if they were going to keep from hurting her. She didn't owe them that charity. Spike had seen a gold glint in her eyes, but her face was still human, determined, burning.

"You missed. Couple of inches to the left," Jade said, her voice flat, emotionless. This time, she didn't wait for the Slayers. She knocked Bailey down with a furious kick that careened the girl to the side. She flew off the mat, rolling to the side before she picked herself back up, shaking her head furiously, but she didn't even hesitate before rejoining the fight. And Jade was in the thick of it, a kick to a girl's stomach that had her flying back into the arms of two others, Jade grabbing another to use them as a projectile to throw. Now she was looking to thin out the crowd, as she should. No more letting them all take pot shots at her. She was faster and stronger, and older than all of them, even after death. The Slayers were taking hits now, shaking it off and heading back into the fray, but visibly slower and slower depending where they were hit and how hard. A Slaypire's strike bloody hurt if it wanted to, Spike knew that for a fact.

And there wasn't no backtalking now, more serious, more level as the Slayers realised they weren't on the winning side. That numbers wasn't always an advantage. They had to dodge each other, help each other, where Jade had no-one to protect, could keep going on her own, had shrugged off the pain in her shoulder, though he could see some of the blood seeping through her t-shirt. It was a brown one with fish on it, some old unstylish tee that she wore practically. Had expected it to get a bit ripped. Here her opponents were mostly dressed in sportswear that looked new and shiny, disgruntled at every stain and every tear. Buffy had lamented the loss of her favorite outfits more than once, but now she favored a military looking black on their adventures. Except for shoes. That woman could wear some damn unpractical heels. Bit self-conscious 'bout her height, that one, though she wasn't any shorter than Jade. The two women were similar in stature, though Jade was smaller still, more gaunt, whereas Buffy was more muscular, sonsy even. They didn't really look anything alike to him, although they each had mesmerizing eyes, in different ways. Buffy's were so intense, like a bloody exploding sun, whereas Jade's were deep as the sky, with far too much hidden inside, so large he could get lost in. And they fought differently too. Jade's defensive, Buffy's offensive, no holding back maneuvers. Different as the sun and moon. Yet he couldn't keep comparing them. Wondered if it had been like that for Buffy, thinking between him and Angel, and immediately regretted that thought. Wanker didn't matter much now, the girl was his. Forehead was on off his white pilgrim escapades with Faith, and far away from them. Be nice if he visited, just once, so Spike could rub his face in it a little.

Might give Spike that delight he was missing.

There was a collective gasp as one of the girls was punted up, directly up in the air, her angle so off that she was veering sharply away from the mat. She was high, and arms flailed uncertainly, and the Slayers paused, uncertain and unsure, and then, like a shadow, Jade moved first, jumping through the crowd and catching her. The girl was smart enough not to struggle, one hand pointedly keeping her over-large glasses on her face. Jade set the two of them on the ground, and after a few hushed words, getting a nod from the girl, who was clutching her arm, Jade bounded back onto the mat, where the other Slayers had watched her in confused awe.

"What did Jade say to her?" Buffy asked, after the girl stayed where she had been placed.

"Told her to stay there and she wouldn't hurt her." Spike answered, and it had been mighty fair in his books. The girl had been completely at Jade's mercy, and she had taken a hell of a hit to get that high up in the air. Lucky the room had been built pretty damn high or she would have gone up and crashed down like a broken rubber ball.

Buffy scowled, if she was irritated by Jade's wording or something else. "But Daphne can still fight. If she's still walking and able to move she should be going back in."

"Not if Super girl wanted to break a leg or two, keep her grounded," Spike reminded the blonde. "And be easy too. Broke plenty of my bones without meanin' to."

Buffy frowned again, looking at the large glasses girl, finally allowing a shrug. "Guess having broken bones and being completely out of it for weeks would only teach them so much."

"I know. Ain't what you were used to. Training like this? That'd be a dream come true. Although you did get some beating my handsome face around, so a sight advantage to you."

Jade was going level with the boy Slayer now, who was keeping up a sight better than some of the others had, with Bailey close at their side, they managed a few well landed strikes on Jade without getting too badly struck back in recompense. Then Bailey stumbled after Jade twisted behind her, kicking her in the back of the knee and pushing her out. This time the perky brunette wasn't so quick to get back up, and the red head with the big mouth, Kelsey had taken her place. She was saying something, and this time Spike couldn't hear over the commotion, but he could see the boy James falter and hesitate, and then Jade reached forward, lightning fast, wrapping her fingers like manacles around Kelsey's arm and snapping her backward like a Frisbee. There was a crack from Kelsey's arm as it broke, and the girl let out a shriek as she fell on her arse. Served her right. Spike could tell from Jade's furious expression that the girl had gone shooting off her mouth again, confirmed by Jade's next taunt.

"Even if James was the confused one here, 'least he knows how to fight." Always protecting the runt of the litter, Jade was fiercely defensive of anyone but herself. Would go out an arm and a leg for friends, sometimes not even that, bare acquaintances really. Spike didn't find it that much of a good thing. The broad rarely lifted a finger to help herself. "So stay down and learn something from him," Jade snapped, turning her attention back to the rest of the Slayers. It was a multitude of cracks, somersaults and flips, but those who remained were the serious ones, even if they were beginning to pick up more and more wounds. Spike noticed however, that Jade had been very, very careful about what wounds she had afflicted. No open wounds for the most part, although a hell of a lot of bruises were sure to follow. But she had avoided hitting anyone on the nose, breaking any bones that punctured the skin. Better that way. Be a bloody lot harder to focus here in the middle of a fight then when she was just sitting in front of a bucket.

She had taken a cuts herself. He could see that her shoulder, the staked one, was bothering her, and she was favoring that left side, using her right more to defend herself. But she was still flitting around, faster than anyone, as no-one had been able to do much damage to her legs. James had been trying, and he even managed to get a good cut on Jade's forehead that had dripped blood into one of her blue eyes, but there were only half of the initial Slayers still fighting, for even as Bailey slowly clambered back to her feet and raced to rejoin the battle, another Slayer went out of commission. Even less than those fighting were armed. Kelsey had taken a stake with them, but only James still held onto his stake now, while the other girls were trying to maneuver their way back to the fallen stakes to pick them up again, and Jade would block their attempt. A quick knee to someone's stomach, a vicious backhand, and there were three still fighting now, the girl who had stabbed Jade with the stake, James and Bailey. The rest just watched, some more than others.

Broken bones, dislocated shoulders, or the crap just beat out of them, the rest of the Slayers stayed on the mat, resigning themselves to just watch. They were out, and going back in would just be more of a bloody mess. 'Least they knew that as much, no martyrs in the group for once. Then he saw it. Kelsey struggling with her unbroken arm to drag the stake up to her forearm. He saw it, Jade wouldn't. Saw the red head's frustration and flushed face. Saw her stupidly working out a plan.

"Oi—" Spike called out in warning as the git plunged the stake down, just enough to break the skin. Stupid broad, stupid sore loser broad, knowing about Jade's bloodlust and trying to distract her. Wanting some sort of end goal medal—'oi, bloody beat the Slaypire didn't we, my brilliance caused it' kind of nonsense. Didn't work like that. Might, in the battlefield. Bit of fresh ol' blood flares up in the atmosphere, might cause a fellow to pause, get the hungers for it. But not here, when Jade was bloody well trying to fight them fair. Keeping her head cool, her eyes blue, her vamp face hidden.

And here was this prat, working to undo all of that.

Jade didn't notice it that very second. Didn't breathe like humans did anymore, wasn't hard panting. But it was hard, still, to completely ignore human instincts—after all, didn't have to think about breathing, and she used it for smell. She noticed then, perhaps because of Kelsey's pained groan, Spike's warning, or she caught the flicker of blood in the air. Her head turned, immediately, towards the source. Maybe the git had been counting on distraction. After all, a stake actually through the heart would end the match. Slayers win. Expected her to get staked right there, as James took up the position, not quite knowing what had distracted his opponent but not taking any bloody pauses. Something Spike would have probably told him was a job well done if it wasn't Jade he was trying to stab in the back. Just seemed bloody unfair to Spike, even if it were all part of the exercise. They were supposed to try anything to win against a foe that badly outpowered them.

So then James prepared to end it, but there was something that they hadn't counted on. Not Buffy even, not the Slayers who gathered round tight, not the git with her own stake in her arm. How bloody fast Jade was.

One moment about to stabbed, the next she was gone like smoke, towards the one target she saw now. Who was quickly trying to scramble up to her feet, perhaps realising she had been a bit of a bloody moron. And Spike, he had been moving since the very second he saw what that broad was going to do. Buffy's questions had been empty in his ear. He was rushing towards the fallen Slayer Kelsey, as was Jade. Except she'd get there a lot sooner than he would. There she was, not blinking, looking forward, like a predator on the hunt. Blue eyes a chilling gold, and forehead beginning to ripple. She had almost reached Kelsey.

So he called out to her. Truth was, he had a panic up in his chest, had hoped, bloody _hoped_ this wouldn't happen. Hell he'd tried to stretch the whole thing hadn't he? Til she was ready. And she bloody tried, more than anyone else had, but it was a lot to ask. A lot to ask from her, but he had anyway. And he would again, because he damn well knew no-one could stop her. A Slaypire, not when they were that far away. But maybe he could.

"Jade!" He called to her. "Bloody Mary." She was inches now, fangs extended in a terrible snarl, might just take the remnant of that stake and stick it in Kelsey's stomach while she was at it. Nothing anyone could do.

Except she paused. Turned to look at him. Then with frightening de ja vu, her face went blank and she crumpled to her knees. Bloody hell no, not again. Thought he was over this by now. He full out sprinted towards them, to Kelsey who was busy scrambling backwards, as if that would prevent her from being caught. No, it was Jade, unmoving, looking down at the ground with an empty look on her face. Her human face at least. Blue eyes, but blank.

"Not again," He muttered somewhat frantically. "You bloody promised." He reached Jade and pulled on her arm hard, but she didn't react, didn't turn to look at him even when he grabbed her chin and pushed her face upwards to glance at him. There were her eyes, staring right at his, but no recognition in them, nothing at all. He'd seen this one before, when they were still in Europe, in Russia. Stumbled upon some age old vampires about to make children stew, and Jade had saved Spike. Saved him, then nearly skewered one child who had been unfortunately close. Then she'd gone into this coma-like state. Hadn't killed the child, but nearly. Fangs out and everything. And for two days, more than that, he hadn't been able to get a single reaction out of her. Scared him near to death. He had tried just about everything.

Finally, she had broken out of it. He'd punched her, _kissed_ her, and nothing. And he wasn't about to try snogging her again, not with all these people around. Too many people. They were crowding around him now, curious, the ones who had been fighting first and now the spectators, some helping idiot Kelsey away from Jade, and some just staring in sick fascination. And many of them armed. Spike realised now, while he had run to stop Jade, Buffy had had her girls grab their crossbows—not just the sedative ones. Protection maybe, but it pissed him off. Jade hadn't lost her soul. Just couldn't control her bloodlust that well yet—she was a baby vampire still, what the bloody hell did anyone expect. No need to threaten to end her life—or at least serious injury over someone who didn't deserve it. Well, in Spike's opinion anyway. He might have been the only one to hold the life of a Slaypire over that of one Slayer but he did.

"Give us some bloody space, yeah?" Spike snapped over his shoulder, and there was Buffy, standing. She was one of the ones armed too. Her eyes were blank too, when she looked down at him, an emotion he couldn't discern—didn't have time for it. He'd give her an earful later about it too if it was a spat she wanted, but not now. But she was nodding, ordering the rest to back up. Wasn't near enough privacy, but it'd have to do. Spike continued speaking quietly, for vampire ears. Tried to remember what worked last time.

He shook her shoulder once more, the wounded one, a hope to jar her back into reality. Didn't work, and he sighed. Then remembered the little pep talk. So he started talking. "You didn't kill her, luv. Didn't even reach her. Thought about it I'm sure, and who would blame you. But she's fine, save for that broken arm that looks bloody glorious on her. You can come back now. No need to make a fella wait."

"Come on," he muttered once more, vehemently. "You can do it. Come back. I'm bloody waiting," He added, a bit of urgency giving way, some desperation flavoring his tone. Still not a tick.

And then a twinge. A shudder, a long blink, her eyes closed as her brow furrowed. Then a light groan as if she was suffering a headache, pressing her hand to her temple, looking slightly confused and then sheepish as her eyes found his, really found his, that blue that was as expansive as the bloody sky.

"Did i…" She asked, looking uncertain. She glanced then, at the crowd that had gathered around them—though they had backed up a tad at Buffy's command. If she still had a blush, he was certain her face would be that tomato red she managed. But she managed to look embarrassed regardless.

"Stopped yourself. Went the coma route again, I might bloody well mention," Spike added, stern, and Jade grimaced.

"Oh. Sorry. Oops. For long?"

"Couple minutes maybe."

"Are you alright?" A different voice cut in, this time Buffy's. She leaned down next to where Spike had crouched next to Jade. Her shoulder brushed Spike's. Warm, comforting, He realised he was still tense as a statue, and needed the reassurance, leaning back into her touch. She didn't move away, not that time, even with all the looking eyes around them. That was a blessing. But Buffy was only looking at Jade now, who nodded, albeit a bit shakily.

"Just embarrassed. I'm okay now. No… vamping out. Least not for the moment." Jade added, but the last part was quiet, a mutter to herself. Spike smiled at her, some attempt for reassurance. If it would help.

"Kelsey's being taken to be treated. In another room," Buffy added, standing back up straight. Jade stayed crouched for a second longer and then rose slowly to her feet. She still looked disorientated, but he noticed that the wound on her back where she had been stabbed had begun to close, no longer dripping fresh blood. He heard then, Buffy's words, and looked to where the crowd had dissipated a little, to where some Slayers were helping Kelsey limp away for her medical care. Spike's anger flared up. Like the little minx deserved it. His eyes spied where the bloody stake lay, and in a rush, he snapped to pick it up.

"Oi, Bloody stake girl!" He called out, striding away from Buffy and Jade as he spoke, twirling the stake in his fingers artfully. "You lose your grip on your stake or somethin'?" Nothing like an angry brit up in someone's face. "Because you know, the whole bleeding yourself in the middle of a fight wouldn't be that smart. Wouldn't work in a real world battle, anyhow, because any vamp facing your fresh face would just wait for the prize. Wouldn't taunt them unless they were real hungry. We ain't sharks. Don't immediately go in a frenzy the second blood hits the air. You don't devour every piece of food in sight, do you?" Kelsey's face flushed a deep red, although she herself wasn't overly plump. Not skin and bones like Jade, but short and small enough. "So I just assume that it must have been a bloody accident. Be glad enough that she _was_ holding back, otherwise you wouldn't even be limping away."

"Yeah," Kelsey mumbled finally, red-faced with shame as she bloody should be. "Lost my grip."

"Think someone deserves a bloody apology, don't you?" Spike insisted. Kelsey slowly turned in the direction of Jade, barely making sure Jade was watching before she mumbled a 'sorry.'

With that reply, he blatantly tossed the bloody stake up to the chit. Her hand, her good one, the one she wasn't cradling to her chest like it was a babe automatically snapped up to grab it. Pure Slayer instinct, with all that bloody training, and Spike stared back smugly. Saw that bloody coming. Trained her muscles, just needed to train that brain of hers. Spike thought back to his demon days. Couldn't help it. That Slayer wouldn't have lasted long. He wondered if she would have even put up a satisfying fight. Least he got to watch her limp away, bit humiliated as she was carted away by the other Slayers, some looking at her with sympathy, others staring at Spike for his outburst, and more smirking in shared cheer. There was a fair few that would have heard one of Spike's speels before, he wasn't exactly known for being easy on feelings while he had helped with the Slayer training a couple years before that. He saw something wrong and he'd mouth off about it, but that his was bloody prerogative. Going nice and soft on people didn't help them any, they needed the hard edge to learn anything.

Though he'd never used the stick with Jade. She just learned, better with encouragement than being yelled at. Just made her frustrated, made her more prone to mistakes, so he had dropped it. After a while, being a arse-hole would just have made him feel bad.

Nice to know he could still bellow out a good narrative when the time came to it. Gathered quite a few onlookers too, still with that deer in bloody headlights look as they helped clear out the wounded Slayers, keeping a wide bloody berth around Jade. She winced a little, he saw her, as she touched the cut on her forehead, the one that had dripped blood into her eyes, but it was dried blood now too, as deep as the gash was, it wouldn't last for long.

"Bit harsh on her," Buffy commented with a blank gaze as Spike as he approached them. There were only a few around them now, Bailey being one of them, the chit had shrugged off offers of assistance and was now chatting up a storm with Jade. Yeah, she had a mouth on her, but at least the girl didn't have the inkling to avoid her like a plague.

"Git needed to know," Spike shrugged. "That's not a viable bloody strategy in battle, cutting herself up like a piece of ham to draw attention. Just get herself killed that way."

"Right," Buffy said, not meeting his gaze, but he knew that tone, knew that look, the suspicion, the not-quite believing, the little self-doubt that flew up every once a while, even in her, and Spike knew Buffy didn't believe his answer, or at least it wasn't the one she thought she should hear.


	63. Chapter 62

**62**

"That was awesome!" Bailey crowed at her. There was swelling on her otherwise unmarked cheek—lucky girl didn't have the acne Jade had to worry about at her age. But her straight brown hair was frazzled, half out of her ponytail, her puma sweatshirt was torn but not bloody—thank God for that small miracle. Still, Bailey had fought hard. No mistaking that, she had hung out until the very end despite taking plenty of kicks. Jade hadn't held back, and Bailey hadn't either. And maybe it was a _tad_ easier to fight Bailey without holding back. Was nice to wipe that cocky smile off her face and get something serious instead.

"Much better than last fight," Bailey continued, brushing sweat off of her forehead.

"I won that one too," Jade reminded her. And she had. Had more years, experience on her. And it hadn't hurt that Bailey's smarmy attitude had really pissed her off.

"Dropped me off a building," Bailey said. "Bit rude, but like whatever, you know. Water. Bridge." And for the most part, it seemed true. Bailey was acting the same as she always did, arrogant and brash, but at least she wasn't holding onto a mile wide grudge. She wanted to fight to prove herself, not to get revenge at Jade. Commendable. Better than some of the other peoples' attitudes at least. Jade's shoulder still smarted from where she had been stabbed with that stake. She supposed she couldn't really blame the girl for doing it—Leanne, she had confirmed the name during the fight—but the fact that it had been while Jade was focusing on not hurting the other girl and was distracted was a pain. Let her guard down because of her worry.

"And I don't know if you actually won this one," Bailey continued brightly. "I'm going to call it a draw."

Jade opened her mouth to say something—likely pointing out that she _could_ have won a lot faster, easier. Mostly to protect her wounded pride, but she could see the sparkle then, in Bailey's dark brown eyes. Oh, teasing. She was being joked with, and Jade relaxed, although a bit surprised, shrugging her shoulders and smiled.

"Next time, then." Jade promised. "See how long you can keep on your feet."

"Just as long as we're not at the top of a building. You kept throwing me on the floor," Bailey complained, looking over her shoulder as someone cleared their throat. Jade looked with surprise, seeing James there. He'd taken a beating too, although not quite as much as the others, kept on his feet and hadn't taken too many blows. At least not those that had knocked him out of the fight. And he had fought hard, determined. Had his own demons to face, likely. She didn't know if he wanted to berate her for her derision of Kelsey—but the girl had been out of line, thinking her under the breath mutters wouldn't go unnoticed. Taunting James mid fight. Jade didn't regret how she had reacted, although she wished she could had avoided the whole vamp face catastrophe. She was still embarrassed from that. So many people watching when she came out of it, and it was all she could do not to grip Spike for support. Felt like her legs were jelly. And yet so thankful that her cheeks couldn't blush because she would have been so very red. Instead, she had managed a mask, like she wasn't ashamed of how she'd near made a buffet out of Kelsey in the middle of a fight. So much for controlling herself. She felt drained, tired. Like she had failed. So deep into the fight that she didn't think twice about turning off her hunter's instinct. Just went right for the fallen prey. She burnt up so much energy during a battle that she was near ravenous again. Not a good mix.

"Nice fight," James said, in his quiet tone, meeting her eyes with spectacular green ones. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, a motion Jade noticed, but to him he probably did it so often he didn't even notice any more. "I know you were holding back," He added matter-of-factly.

"Not that she needed to," Bailey scoffed, although waffled slightly under James' admonishing glare. "Okay, okay. A little."

James looked back to Jade, chewing a little on one of his piercings. "I hope to do better next time." He offered a hand, and Jade took it. So much warmer than hers, a firm grip, although her skin wasn't ice-cold for once either. Got enough action for that. Her hands were sore and aching from the impacts, although they'd heal quickly enough. Wouldn't even swell. And good to know that she hadn't broken any bones in her knuckles from that fight, _that_ would have been a tell that she was hitting just a little too hard.

"Thanks. You did well," Jade said, properly respectful. She liked James. Could understand how he was a little unwilling to accept her help in front of the crowd, but he was courteous now, and that's what mattered. He wanted to fight his battles on his own.

And Spike had just handled one for her. Buffy had been saying something when Spike had strode away like the wind was at his back, and he yelled, in full British attitude—not the poncy reserved Watcher way, but the more hot headed kind, and took a piece out of Kelsey. Said some things that Jade would have liked to say but wouldn't. Was a nice expression on her face that Jade got to see, and she wasn't so angelic that there wasn't a deep satisfaction out of seeing that. Still, the way he had shouted at her for Jade's sake was… well.

Confusing, that's what it was. Felt nice, like a warm bowl of soup in her stomach, felt reassured, comforted. And the rest, just confusing. Talking like that for her. And then a sense of irritation. She didn't need someone to stand up for her, especially not Spike. That wasn't his job. It was her own, she had to learn to do it eventually, didn't she? But then it also, it was just nice. Nice seeing how Buffy's eyes followed Spike, and that frown split her brow. A bit of guilty pleasure at that that Jade just couldn't help. They were talking now, among themselves, and Jade was keeping herself from listening. Bailey was chatting up a loud enough storm that Jade could focus on that anyway, although James had moved on to get his wounds treated. Jade thought that was that—no more approaches from the Slayers that had fought _or_ the ones that had watched when another came up to them, this one someone Jade didn't recognize, with square red glasses, a pierced nose and purple hair.

"Hi Priscilla," Bailey inserted, not immediately hostile, her well-groomed eyebrows shifting upwards as she nosily asked, "Did you want something? And don't be here to tell me how you could do so much better," Bailey warned in rapid word-to-mouth fashion.

"Not from you," The girl said in a slightly snobbish tone, like she was usually a know-it-all, a nasally presence to her voice. She pressed her thin lips together and then came out with an encouraging smirk, batting her brown eyes at Bailey. "You were adequate. Your form needs some more cultivation, but your tenacity was impressive."

Bailey blinked. "Honestly, Priss, sometimes I don't even know if you speak English, you know?"

"You did well," Jade supplied. "Just sloppy." As Bailey snapped her chin back towards Jade, ponytail following suit and a pout on her full lips Jade hastily added, "But you had a lot of heart. That's all she was saying."

"Thanks for the translation," Priscilla said drily. "I'll try to negate the number of dipthongs I use in conversation."

"You dip it in _what_?"

"Moving on," Priscilla said with a roll of her eyes over the top half of her spectacles, she turned toward Jade, a contemplative, serious expression on her face. Jade had decided that she liked the thoughtful Slayer, although she had a feeling Priscilla went out of her way to confuse her fellow Slayers with her jargon. Not one to be bogged down with the 'you knows' and 'huhs', she more likely found superiority in sounding intelligent instead. Which was nice. There was only so many of Bailey's—and most of the young Slayers'—lingo that Jade could handle. So many of them in the fifteen to seventeen range, particularly in this room. Priscilla was a bit heavier, plump perhaps, and stood half a foot taller than Bailey did, but Jade wouldn't say that she looked unfit. Slower perhaps, and likely not the type to do fancy flips—to be fair, Jade had never been all that into it either—she seemed more calculating, careful. Not all the fancy fighting techniques, but a stake to the heart would be a precise, accurate strike.

At least that was what Jade gathered from Priscilla from the way she looked, talked and held herself. She could be way off. Spike was always better at profiling than she was. Could tell a thing about someone just by looking. And especially by fighting them. She still had to work on it, but she was convinced at least this profile wasn't that far off.

"The same applies to you," Priscilla was saying, and Jade cocked her head to the side.

"Sorry?" Jade asked, confused.

"You were 'sloppy', as you put it. I was not there at the battle of the captured Slayers, but I have read many accounts on the capabilities of the Slayer-Vampire. And asked for many details from those who were there as witness."

"Me included," Bailey included. "Interrogated me like, five times. How many times can you say, 'we got our ass kicked by super speed bitch'? And let me tell you, she wanted every last detail. Like I remember every detail. It was freaking terrifying."

"Yes, your account was lacking some authenticity and attention to details." Priscilla said tartly. "Thankfully, there were more reliable sources to 'paint a picture', if you will."

"Honestly, I tell you, it's blah blah blah from her," Bailey just shook her head, eyes wide. "I can't understand a word. And I thought the exchange Slayers were a pain to talk to."

"And what did you find from your…research?" Jade asked, trying to find a better word and failing. She wanted Priscilla to get to the point, a bit curious about what the girl was trying to say.

Priscilla cleared her throat, readjusting her glasses so that they sat perfectly on her pointed nose—although they seemed just perfect beforehand. "That you shouldn't have struggled so against the Slayers you were put against. I expected speed and efficiency. Speed, you had, but accuracy was lacking. For lack of a better term, you confused and disorientated the enemy, but you should have been able to put them down quicker. Unstoppable, I believe, was a term used to describe Mandy."

"Well, she was older."

Priscilla pursed her lips, a few wrinkles forming on her brow in a slight frown. "By a year. Not significant, even by Vampire standards. Years, decades, yes, there is an obvious scale in strength and speed, but it stands to reason that you should have the same capability as Mandy did, if not slightly under."

"And?" Jade prompted. She wasn't sure if she was getting lectured, but it seemed like the case, and she shuffled her feet.

"You didn't toy with them," Priscilla concluded. "There was no malice. You didn't make them scamper like fools while you taunted their inferiority. You gave them chances—far too many, in my opinion."

"Hey, watch it with the inferior talk, Prissy." Bailey protested while Jade studied the purple haired girl intently.

"You were gentle," Priscilla added, seeing Jade's wanting to get to the point. "Not exactly a scintillating display of a Slayer-Vampire's ability. It might have been best to defeat them quickly and easily. A few more devastating injuries than the ones they received, but the lesson would be taught. Instead, you gave them the misconstrued idea that there was a possibility of victory."

"There is always a possibility for victory," Jade disagreed.

Priscilla shrugged. "Perhaps. That could hobble some, give them assuagement and comfort where they should instead be circumspect and aware. But it was also kind of you. A learning step, if you will. They were still out-matched. Would be again, if you were foe and not friend. But you did it out of kindness, with a great deal of restraint. Restraint that their real opponent would not be sharing." Priscilla closed her mouth and opened it, contemplation on her astute features. "What I am saying is that you were wrong, perhaps, to go easy on them as you did. I am aware there were very real moments in which you did inflict injuries and test their limits, but you did not break them, and that could be a disadvantage. Just points to consider, for next time. You also gave them a chance to adapt and learn, albeit slower than they would have in the fields of actual battle, but that is the purpose of training. Smaller, careful steps. In that regard, you did quite well."

"Thank you. I think?" Jade said, then added on the last part a little uncertainly. She was getting what the girl was saying—for the most part. It was a good point. One that Spike had probably brought up. Just in a more alluring British accent and in not so many words.

"I can't tell if she insulted you or if she's girl-crushing or something." Bailey said. Then shaking her head and the remnants of her messy ponytail, declared, "I'm out of here. Going to get some ice for these bruises from the _intense_ and _totally not going easy on me_ fight." She said those words pointedly in Priscilla's direction, and then flounced away. At least tried to, but it looked as if one leg had stiffened up and the other had taken some beating, and instead the brunette managed to unadroitly scuffle away.

"Yes, you should be proud of your accomplishments. Particularly in the way you avoided drawing blood. Understandable, considering your reaction." Priscilla sniffed. She looked thoughtful for a moment longer, then announced, "I must go record my thoughts while they are still fresh. I plan to not underestimate you—or let my fellow peers do the same in a next match with you, should there be one."

"Probably be a while," Jade said, rubbing her own stiff shoulder. There was a dull throb instead of a jackknifing pain, but she wasn't healing as quickly as she could be without the addition of some much needed blood. Her stomach was starting to growl, and it wasn't best for her to be hungry, especially not now.

"That is expected," Priscilla said, snapping her chin up and down in sharp fashion. "Until next time, Slayer—" Beginning to speak the whole title—no word-shortening with that one, Priscilla corrected herself. "Jade. Do you have a last name?" The question was so out of the blue that Jade was startled into asking.

"Walker. But you really don't have to—"

"Miss Walker then," Priscilla decided firmly. Jade restrained herself from sighing like a sputtering horse and with a resigned shrug, accepted it. She watched the purple haired girl begin to walk away, when after a few steps, came to a sudden halt and turned back towards her. "I nearly forgot," Priscilla said, in a way that seemed like irritation at her absentmindedness. "Daphne requested that I deliver you a message from her."

"Daphne?" Jade echoed in confusion.

"She's one of those you fought against. Has a hard time getting over her diffidence. Large glasses, small of frame," Priscilla clarified.

"Oh," Jade said as recognition hit her. "The girl I-"

"Propelled into the air at alarming heights and speed, yes." Priscilla continued matter-of-factly. She shifted her square glasses again, and then added more softly, "The girl you then caught and saved from severe injury. Again, varying from what would be expected from a Slayer-Vampire opponent, but in this case, it was quite decent. I cannot fault you for that. And neither can she. She wanted to give you her gratitude. Being timid, as I said, she was not willing to say so herself, but she wanted her sentiments known. She said it was kind of you, and I agree. Have a good day, Miss Walker." Jiggling her shoulders as she straightened herself back up, Priscilla turned and walked away, this time for good, her posture perfectly kept as she strode across the floor.

"Thought she'd never leave," a few words sounded in her ear, behind, deeper and more British, and there was a slight chill on her skin as she turned her head to see Spike standing behind her,close, as his mouth had only scant inches from her ear when he spoke. She didn't jump, but she was startled, so immersed she had been with the conversation.

"I liked talking to her," Jade declared, feeling a need to be defensive for the admittedly odd but refreshingly so girl that walked away from them.

Spike let out a mock shudder. "Can't understand why. It was like listening to a bloody Watcher litany. Less British but every bit as stuffy."

Jade couldn't quite stifle her chuckle. "Oh, don't be rude. She's nice."

"A sight better than the normal hum drums of her tender age, perhaps," Spike grudgingly allowed. "But she couldn't walk any straighter without pulling that dictionary out of her ars—"

"Stop," Jade laughed, reaching up to grip his shoulder to stop his relentless tirade, not meaning to make contact, but doing so anyway, naturally, easily. Then his eyes met hers, those burning bright blue eyes, and she snapped her hand back to her side. Wasn't hers, Jade had to remind herself. Shouldn't touch.

"Well, she came over to talk to me at least. And she meant well." Jade said, and it was true. Most of them had avoided her like the plague. Though the ones that she had fought, they had been hurried off to get their wounds checked, so Jade didn't blame them for not sticking around. Not that she knew what to say to them anyway.

"Watcher-wannabe," Spike muttered, although without much venom, his eyes flickering over her hand after she had removed it from his arm, and she could see the muscles flex lightly underneath his tight sleeved black shirt.

"Where'd Buffy go?" Jade blurted, out of curiosity—seeing that the blonde had left Spike's side. Which was a bit nice, she couldn't help but admit to herself. Harder seeing them so close together, although it was something she needed to get used to.

Spike's eyes narrowed a fraction, but then his expression smoothed over so quickly Jade wasn't quite sure she hadn't imagined it. "Talkin' to the troops," He shrugged evenly. "Said Wank—I mean Harris would be on his way shortly. Give us the whole down low."

"Right, good." Jade said, touching her fingers to her stinging forehead, aware again of how hollow her stomach was feeling.

"Get you something to eat first. Figure you're feeling a might peckish," Spike said, reading her mind it seemed, as he so often did. "Come on, Bloody Mary."

Jade didn't disagree, and after a nudge from Spike's elbow, trailed after him. She could see him fiddling with something, pulling a cigarette from his pants pocket and putting it to his lips. It was at the same time that they were passing Buffy and Kennedy, and after the blonde said a word to her dark eyed second in command, Buffy distanced herself from the crowd and caught Jade and Spike.

"Outside with that," The blonde declared at Spike's almost lit cigarette, to which Spike muttered a light curse.

"Was heading out anyway," Spike complained. "No need for twisted knickers."

"Uh huh," Buffy said skeptically. "Well keep those unlit for the inside, mister. You don't need to be giving your bad habits to impressionable young girls."

"Never worked on you though, did it." Spike offered with a crooked, teasing grin, but Buffy rolled her eyes, unaffected by Spike's charm. Had better control than Jade did, then.

"Out."

"I could burn," Spike pouted in faux dismay.

"Oh no," Buffy said sarcastically. "I'm deeply concerned."

A drive to feed and a sudden much needed urge to be away from the two of them propelled Jade to keep moving. It wasn't as if she hadn't been privy to their never-ending banter with each other that was mostly comprised of mocking and light insult, but it seemed more intolerable now. She had nearly overtaken Spike by a step when he reached out with a hand to stop her.

"Just going to get a spot of something to eat," Spike said, his hand not quite touching Jade, but she was responding to his signal anyway. Had gotten used to it over the last couple of months, where her control wasn't always the most reliable, and he always was. "Meet you after?"

"Mhm-hum," Buffy agreed in what was probably a compliant noise, her eyes shifting between the two of them, bright green and acute.

They walked in silence for a good couple of minutes, taking a stop at the kitchen and to the fridge which held blood pack reserves. Jade figured they had been stocked recently in preparation for their arrival, although she checked the dates just to be sure. Nothing like old blood to really turn her stomach. Drinking some goat's blood and feeling slightly demonic at the connection, she and Spike took to outside underneath a covered veranda, to which Spike was lighting up cigarettes. Being December and all, it was getting colder, but still no snow, and the sun was still bright, shining relentlessly down towards them. Jade made sure she was very far and carefully tucked underneath the small outstretched roof as she sat down, keeping a constant look on the sun. Spike smoked one cigarette in record time, starting on the next instantly. As a second thought, he offered one to Jade. Debating for a moment, she shook her head, continuing to drink her blood at a fast pace. She was hungry, with the fight taking a lot out of her. A lot of precise, controlled punches that couldn't be too light or too much, and the damage she had sustained, although she had inflicted her fair share too. She drank her first jar quickly, and moved on to the second. Going for that overfull feeling, and maybe she wouldn't think about eating anyone for a while.

"You don't smoke up much anymore," Spike observed as he fished his cigarette out of his mouth and let out a long, smoky drag. Smoke from the air but not his breath.

"Lot weirder now," Jade admitted. "Not the same air motion and all that."

Spike shrugged. "Got used to it."

"Yeah. Well I was never a big smoker anyway. Social smoker, if you'd forgive the term."

Spike snorted. "What, needed a bit of a rebellion as a kid? Thought it'd make you look cool, but couldn't quite stick to it."

"I don't think it's a badge of honor to be addicted to smoking," Jade chided him with a laugh. "But yeah, something like that. Too many rules, even as a Potential Slayer. Lots of stress. Bennett started, so I did too." She stilled a little at the mention of his name, fingers tapping on her jar before taking another drink. Over the years the loss subsided. She thought it shouldn't, that maybe she really hadn't been in love with him at all if she was able to get over his death, but that was stupid thinking. She had been, and deeply. But she couldn't forever or she'd go mad for someone who no longer lived—well, existed. He'd died before he died. The second was a lot worse.

"Just don't go getting high and mighty on me," Spike warned.

"Never." Jade promised, giving a small, uncertain smile. She knew he didn't like being talked down to, having someone treat him like he was nothing, some waste of space. She knew he had had enough of that in his unlife, pre-soul, after. And he didn't deserve it, not a bit. And it was hard to look down on him anyway. She looked up to him, idolized him even. Not exactly something to brag about, but it was true.

"You did well 'gainst the baby Slayers," Spike spoke after a while, as Jade licked a droplet of blood from the corner of her mouth. "Sussed out just how much you needed to keep them off and then down. Did right well."

"Priscilla said I was too easy on them," Jade couldn't help but mention. She had never been that good with accepting praise. Liked it, there was no mistaking that. Wasn't all too good with criticism, though she always braced herself for it.

Spike scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "She know what she saying more than I do, then?" Spike retorted. "Yeah, you a bit light on them, but they're the kids of the lot. Took a beating, one they can stagger 'way from. Didn't need to punish them and you didn't. Didn't shed a drop of blood though, did you?" There was admiration in those blue eyes, lighter even in the shade, reflecting the spark of the cigarette as he inhaled another smoky breath and pushed it back out.

"Guess it was a good thing that I didn't," Jade muttered in agreement. "Although that part didn't matter in the end. Still couldn't deal with it when it did—"

Spike moved swiftly and silently like a vampire of his age could, a speed that was more impressive when she was human, but was still noteworthy now as he reached for her, twirling two fingers in a downward swirl and planting them underneath her chin. He lifted up her face so she had to stare directly at him, and she did, though it was hard not to look away from those spellbinding blue eyes. She was terrified she'd find some disgust in them, some disappointment in her reaction, but she found his eyes unreadable as his forehead creased in a frown and his own gaze flickered between her eyes too.

"'Nuf with the feeling sorry for yerself," He chastised her. "Time to sing a different tune, luv. Can't go beating on yourself each time you feel peckish for the happy meals around you."

"But I should be—"

"Shouldn't be a thing. You do what you can, which is good enough. Stop being so bloody hard on yourself and realise you've done better than expected. Now buck up."

"Buck up?" Jade said, sputtering a bit. She should have been used to his harsh deliverances by now, but they still stung. Spike was a blunt talker, and she knew it. And he was right. Tearing herself down instead of congratulating her success wasn't exactly in the self-help books.

"Yeah, and bloody well soon. No more cloud over your head."

"Well," Jade quipped, "Helps block out the sun." Had to try to tease, try to find some humor. Didn't always seem to be so hard with Spike, was a lot easier once. But it wasn't the same, not with the wall that they didn't speak of between them. The wall that was Buffy. That made her feel self-conscious about spending any time alone with Spike, and at the same time thinking she was stupid. Like being alone with him made a difference now. It didn't. But she could still listen to his advice. And at least try to follow it.

"Well at least you still got a sense of humor," Spike said, shaking his head at her joke. "Barely."

"Thanks. I'll see you all soon."


	64. Chapter 63

**63**

Stuffed into the bloody meeting room, they were, although Spike couldn't help but notice there were far fewer generals than he was used to seeing. A bit tighter on the security, where they? Must be something good then. Buffy had been tight-lipped 'bout it—as she was about most things considering the Slayers—and he could see her trust didn't extend very far. Kennedy was there, slinking against the wall, likely wanting to be there to be present, remind them all that she was important too, one of the big thinkers. Little Miss Red was missing, but Spike doubted it was because the wiccan was unaware. Likely she had some witchy things to be doing. But Buffy walked in with Xander at her side, and Spike didn't miss the quick narrowing of his eye as the git saw him, for the first time since hearing about Spike being with Buffy again.

Again, as if it counted the first time. Probably not. 'Least not to her, who stressed the new beginning thing. Be a lot easier if she didn't bring up the past whenever she wanted him to feel guilty about something. But Spike took a little delight in smirking smugly back to the one-eyed man as Xander stepped past them to the table. Then he caught Jade looking at him too, with that gaze that passed through and noticed everything it seemed. Then he felt a bit guilty. Not that he needed to. She didn't have much to do with the rivalry between him and Xander. The one that would probably last until Xander was an old and grey man. Probably after that. If Xander ever did get married to the Niblet—good God Spike hoped not, he was still waiting for Dawn to come to her senses and dumb the wanker—Spike barely expected an invite let alone a groomsman nonsense. Never had to worry about that kind of inclusion, even if Niblet inserted her precious opinion. Spike and Xander weren't rivals the way Spike and the sodding white Knight Angel were, but that didn't mean they were pals. That'd be a likely never on the sometime going to happen list.

But he was tolerable, sometimes. And he had to admit for a human, a mostly bumbling one at that, Xander threw himself into fights that were far outside his capabilities in order to help Buffy. Would do anything for his buddies, which was a loyalty Spike never quite inspired.

Except from the one who sat to his left, he supposed, who alternated from tugging on her ear to flicking her hair—likely not knowing she was doing it. She didn't handle waiting well, the fidgety thing she was. Although couldn't blame her for being a little energy-rife after that fight. Just because she wasn't throwing all her strength in her punches didn't mean it didn't take a ton of bloody concentration—likely took more to hold back. And she was much more aware, he was sure, that Slayers who might not be as breakable as he was still took a much longer recuperation time for the real severe injuries.

"Not a big crowd today," Spike commented, as it was made clear after Buffy and Xander sat down that there wouldn't be any more goons joining them. Most of the generals were all over the place anyway. Stuffed up Rupert was in England, along with the cheery tosser Andrew.

"Not big with the advertisement," Xander said. "Down with the hush."

"Yeah, I can see that," Spike drawled. "Making me all nervous." In direct contrast to his words were the way he said them, casually and easily as if nothing bothered him at all. He leaned back in his chair, which sank to accommodate him but didn't tilt back, and he stretched his legs to the next chair to spread out. Had a feeling Buffy might try to break his legs if he propped them up on the table so he opted not to try it. This time.

"It's not like a secret conspiracy or anything," Buffy said, but she was still being vague.

"Big word for you, luv," Spike couldn't help but tease. What, if he couldn't taunt her, watch those brows furrow in irritation, watch her eyes narrow as she looked around for something to throw at him, there just wouldn't be any fun in it, now would it. Was lost on him, the thought that he needed to look for something fun, that he needed the teasing and taunting to make it feel like old days.

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy replied in instant fashion, her petite nostrils flaring in obvious irritation.

"Children, no need to fight." Xander admonished, his face looking slightly pinched and yet still a bit lost. He was a goofy looking sod, that one, with his big ears and wide eyes. Well, eye, now, and it managed to make him look a bit serious. Like a pirate businessman. Xander cleared his throat after he recognized that Buffy and Spike had actually stopped, with Spike allowing the moment to get away so he could see just what they had cooked up for Jade.

"So," Xander said, ruffling through some papers. "What do you know about Harmony?"

"That she's a shallow, bitchy—" Spike began to supply.

"Not you, Spike," Xander sighed. "This one's for the lady." He bobbled that ridiculous head of his in Jade's direction, who looked back at him, thoughtful although not entirely certain.

"Used to go to high school with all of you. Turned into a vampire. Spent some time working for Angel at Wolfram & Hart," Jade recited. "That about right?"

"That's the past, yeah," Xander agreed. "I'm talking about the current events. Know you've been a bit on the isolated side the last couple of months."

Jade frowned, her brow furrowed as her lips curled slightly under. Trying to think, Spike could tell. Could just answer for the broad, but he didn't fancy getting into a row with Xander, or the green eyed blonde girl who still glared daggers at him. "She… revealed vampires to the world, didn't she? Just a few months ago. It's some sort of movement now. They exposed both vampires and slayers to the population, and somehow, humans didn't run screaming, thinking that the vampires are the good guys."

"Those Twilight novels," Xander shook his head mournfully. "And a gold star to you. Hit it right on the noggin."

"And what about her?" Spike asked, wanting his own say. Didn't much want Xander to bring Spike's name into it, thankfully Jade's details of the undead blonde didn't involve him at all. Those were a few loads of mistakes he didn't much want to think about. His fling with Harmony was definitely one of those topics to skip over and lock in the 'must have lost his sodding mind' box.

"Well, the I 'heart' vampires movement is gathering, well, movement." Xander continued.

"I was under the impression that the Slayers hadn't really come out much," Jade said, directing her comment to Buffy, who nodded in confirmation.

"Not going to plaster my girls' faces on the News just so every undead creep-o can know who they're looking for," Buffy responded firmly. "There might not just be only one in the world anymore, but that doesn't mean the vampires don't still outnumber us. We wouldn't have said anything if footage of us killing vamps hadn't come out too."

"Makes us look like the baddies," Xander put in. "Vi's been doing some interviews, but we haven't really been able to keep up with the big vampire lover rally. They had a head start, and they certainly love the attention."

"Harmony in particular," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "We hunt vampires, not try to make nice with them on the tv. I don't have time for this political nonsense. _So_ much easier when they didn't know who they were, and ran around oblivious and off screaming when the baddies go bumpy. Now they ask for autographs." She scoffed, and Spike knew it was a blow, being on the scorned side of the public eye, especially since they were the ones trying to fight the good fight.

"Changing world out there pet," He pointed out. "Couldn't hope it stayed that way forever, 'specially with all the new Super girls added to the mix."

"Yeah, well it's a huge-o pain." Buffy muttered, curling her arms in front of her chest with grumpy panache.

"Where do I fit in here?" Jade asked. "You're not asking me to be a vampire spokesperson for the Slayers are you?" She blanched. Not a fan of public speaking, that one.

"No, not at all." Xander reassured her. "Down with the hush, remember? No, see, there's been a lot of support for the vampires, like it enough, and they've gone public enough to even have their own headquarters, right in Los Angeles. Harmony's leading the pack, at least in the news reports."

"But no with the way that she's actually the brains," Buffy supplied. "She's just the figurehead. There's someone else in the organization pulling the strings—maybe more than a few. And you can bet that they have no squeaky clean agenda either, all down with the human-vampire coalition of peace. That's a big unlikely."

"So then," Jade furrowed her brow. "What exactly are you asking?"

Buffy glanced at Xander, and he looked back at her. How sodding cute, the two of them with their little best pals moment. Reaching a decision, Buffy turned back to Jade, her green eyes gleaming.

"See, the thing is, we can't exactly walk in there and see who's pulling the strings without starting a full scale war. Not that I'm not tempted," Buffy mumbled the last part behind gritted teeth. "But they're quite accepting to the undead family. Always looking for new bodies who want to join the movement. Ugh, cult's a better word for it, isn't it? Cult."

"Join the movement," Jade repeated. Spike could see the wheels turning in her head, like little gears. Her blue eyes had widened a bit, looking from Xander to Buffy. "You want me to join them?"

"Well, it has to be someone that you know, won't back stab us from inside," Xander pointed out. "And someone they don't know already wrestles for the good guys, you know?"

"That leaves you." Buffy concluded. "If you're willing. You'd be totally on your own. And it's not exactly the most friendly of places. And a bunch of age old deadies. Ew."

"For… how long?" Jade asked. Part of her wanted to say no, Spike could see that. That self-preservation part that didn't fancy walking into a den of enemies completely alone and without backup. But he knew it'd be beaten out as soon as someone appealed to that bleeding heart of hers. And they would, and she would bend. It was plain as bloody day. The day that neither he or her got to see any more.

"Don't know," Xander admitted, with a look at Buffy. "Be up to your discretion. If it's real bad, just tear out of there. Or until you get the information we need."

"What they're planning. How many. And who's running the show. I know it's a lot to ask," Buffy continued. "But it is important. We're running blind here, and I don't like it. Stupid people and their ignorance protecting them from us. We do anything against them and it'll just incite the population more. Meanwhile, they get to run around unhindered."

There it was. The tipping branch on the sodding scale. He could see Jade's fingers curl and uncurl, as she slowly nodded her head. Chit was easy to read, that one. Too gentle, not even weighing the proper dangers of going alone. But he knew she didn't completely fail to recognize the dangers as one of her hands trailed up to her collar bone, where her necklace laid hidden under a bulk of clothes. Always that ever-present reminder of how easy it'd be to cross over.

"Okay," Jade murmured, repeating herself when she spoke only for vampire ears. "Okay. I'll—I'll do it."

There was relief on Xander's face as he smiled back at her. "Thank you," The man said sincerely. "Did I mention this was my plan? You're all I need to make me look good." Trying to defuse the danger with some humour, but Spike wasn't going to let the git off so easy.

"It's bloody dangerous," He drawled, and Jade's eyes shot back to him. Disappointment maybe, or uncertainty flavored her blue eyes. She thought he'd back her there? Not that easy. Wasn't about to let her walk into a den of baddies so that she could get that redemption she insisted on feeling like she needed. All this guilt from no wrong doing, didn't make a bloody lick of sense to him.

"And don't say it isn't," He cautioned Buffy and Xander, who shared another look. "You want to buff up her abilities, tell 'er since she's a Slaypire she got nothing to worry 'bout, just waltz in, take a look at their plans and waltz out? Ain't that sodding easy. Things take time, and yeah, Harmony might be a loony, but whoever's pulling the strings won't be. Jade'll have to wait a long right time before she can get into their confidence. And Vampires love sending others to do their dirty work. 'Specially when they see what she can do, and how long do you think she'd be able to maintain her cover and stay golden? And get away? She's fast, but she can't bloody teleport like Red. Against a whole nest of vampires? Not a sodding chance."

"I'll be fine," Jade disagreed, although after he glowered at her, she added more modestly, "Well, I'll be careful."

"There are risks," Xander admitted in full droopy boy fashion. No bloody kidding there were risks. Even a child could figure that one out, although in Spike's opinion, Xander's mentality hadn't much evolved past that. "And you're in no way obligated." He said it to Jade this time, earning another scoff from Spike. Yeah, in no way obligated, but pretty please do it anyway. "No hard feelings if you say no."

"I'm not saying no," Jade said with another glance at Spike. "I can do this." She was imploring him, her fingers spread out flat on the table.

"Yeah, because you're so ready to be on your own," Spike answered scathingly, and he could see her brow furrow, the softness in her eyes dissipate as irritation took over. What did he bloody care. He was irritated too. Damned sick of this bloody martyr attitude in every broad that he ever cared a lick for. Alright, not Dru. She wasn't the kind to bear the sodding cross, but she was barmy, and far too willing to stoop low for Angel's benefit. Allowed herself to be tortured and bashed because she saw nothing better than herself. And Buffy, well, Buffy'd been suffering from a feeling of wrongness that Spike instilled in her when she'd first reluctantly and hatefully stumbled into his arms.

"Around humans, maybe," Jade pointed out. "But this is a nest of _vampires_. If there's any place best for me to not have to worry about going full bloodlust, it's there."

"Until someone hauls in their capture and invites you to take a sip," Spike retorted.

Jade opened her mouth and closed it, clearly short on reply. Yet another reason why she wasn't ready to go on this. Didn't know a thing about vampires. They weren't particularly known for their sharing, even though the scenario Spike suggested wasn't impossible. It was still likely. There were so many things that could go wrong. Too much to risk.

However, there was one option that might work, and he was just a bit chuffed knowing that it'd tick off just about everyone in the room.

"It's too dangerous for Super girl to go it alone," He reiterated firmly. Could see Buffy huff up her bottom lip in annoyance. "So there's only one other option, as I see it. She doesn't go alone. I go with her."

"What?" Jade and Buffy spoke at the same time. Xander followed a second later, after his jaw had to drop a bit, gaping wide. Kennedy was the only one to differ from them, speaking up for the first time since the beginning.

"Saw that coming," The Slayer said darkly.

"Did you not listen to the plan at all?" Xander gathered himself first, his one eye open, an aghast expression on his face. "The incognito part? I think it's a bit well known to the vampire world that you're kind of for the good guys now, the whole pesky soul part, remember? I don't think they'd suddenly forget. Particularly your crazy ex. Blonde, sadistic, whiny. Remember her?"

"Not saying they would," Spike replied shortly.

"Then how—"

"Doesn't have to seem like I'm there willingly." Spike pointed out. "Look, Slaypire or not, she's still an unknown. They aren't exactly going to suss out a willing invitation first night. She arrives with someone they want, however…"

"And who in God's name would ever want you?" Xander responded immediately, foot in his mouth, and then realising his mistake, glanced contritely at Buffy. Buffy who still hadn't said anything, just stared mutely at Spike. For the first time he felt a twinge of guilt, getting looked at by those green wells that held no anger, just hurt. Hurt, for what bloody for he had no idea, but it was there anyway. And it wasn't the time to take her aside and comfort her, try to touch that soft piece of skin on her jaw, feel the warmth resonating in her flesh. No, not at all, and he wasn't making any bets that she'd be all too willing to let him get that close in the near future, once being upset wore off and she was left with being pissed. Because that seemed to always be the road she travelled, whether he deserved it or not.

"At least to make an example out of, you git. Harm's never been able to resist me anyway. Jade comes in pulling me on a string, they'll at least bite."

"Make an example out of," Jade repeated in a quieter voice. Then she frowned. "As if that's not even more dangerous."

"Best plan there is," Spike insisted.

"Yeah, like you've been the best with the plan making, Spike," Xander shook his head. He glanced up at Buffy, still waiting for the blonde to say something, but she kept her lips solidly and tightly locked, not yet ready to say a word.

"And if they do take the bait?" Jade challenged. "Lock you up, welcome me with open arms. How do I get you out when the mission's over?"

"Well that's your problem, isn't it, Super girl?" He responded snidely, watching her narrow her eyes. "I get you in, get your name up in lights, make you look sodding important, and when the time comes, you get me out. Where that super strength and speed comes in handy, yeah?"

"So I can't break out on my own, likely, but you think I'd be able to do it with you in tow?" Jade asked skeptically, trying to teach him a thing or two.

"That's the gist, yeah."

Jade shook her head in disbelief.

"It's not actually the worst plan ever," Kennedy finally put in, as some silence fell. Xander turned and snapped his head around to her.

"That's your big contribution? Craziness?" The one-eyed man declared with incredulity.

Kennedy's eyes narrowed. "Just listen. Just because he rattles your cage doesn't mean he doesn't have a point. Jade is a four month old vampire with her soul hanging off her neck, and sending her alone into Vamp headquarters could be catastrophic."

Jade ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her fingers down her cheeks, clearly not sure enough to fight Kennedy's point. "And bringing Spike in decreases the danger how?" Jade mumbled through her hands.

"For one, you need someone with you to remind you how a bloody vamp is supposed to act," Spike pointed out. "You haven't got a clue. You'd waltz in there, all rainbows and soft human eyes and they'd pounce on you in a second."

Jade opened her mouth, closed it again. "Not vampire enough?" She questioned. "What about you. You don't—"

"But I bloody know _how_ to, that's the difference. Just how much tough guy talk they 'spect. And you seem to forget your aversion to getting all bumpy, and you'd have to get used to vamp face. All the bloody time." He enunciated, not missing her wince. He knew how much she was disgusted by her vamp face, despite the face she didn't have to worry about catching it in mirrors.

"Spike's right." Buffy said quietly.

"Okay, now I really am in crazy land," Xander sputtered. "You're the one that pointed out she'd have to go alone."

"Yeah, Xander, because Willow masquerading as a vampire definitely would have worked."

"There were other suggestions," Xander insisted half-heartedly.

"This might be the only way. Not as risky as sending her by herself."

"Told you," Spike said smugly, catching a look like fire from Jade. Not the one he was expecting to disagree with him, but he couldn't quite drop the smirk from his face without looking out of place. Her anger was something he had to contend with over the last few weeks, irritation particularly pricking at her during their bloodlust control sessions, but rarely did he see her so furious. And she was trying to keep it under wraps, her lips in a thin line, small lithe fingers curled into fists. Well, this fella was trying to lend a hand, as he often did. Somehow all bints just managed to get irate with him whenever it suited their fancy.

Except Jade wasn't like that. Didn't just snap at him to play Kick The Spike. It was something else.

"You want to give us a moment?" Buffy was speaking now, bringing him out of his reverie. He realised that her look had been directed first at Jade, who had nodded and rose up without argument, but when Buffy's emerald gaze landed on him, Spike scoffed, not quite the one to be sent quietly away. Not a little schoolboy to be putting his nose to the corner of the room for bad behavior.

"Not part of the big kids table, are we?" Spike sneered. Well sodding hell, it was rude. If there was anyone Buffy was supposed to trust into her little group, it was him. Now they wanted to have a deep ol' discussion without him, and she was acting like she was the wronged one.

"Just need a couple minutes." Buffy said, standing firm. Her eyes flickered to Kennedy next. "Can you get Willow for us?"

The dark look the Slayer gave her was equally unimpressed, but she didn't budge. Instead, the irritated look vanished from her petulant face for a moment, replaced by a blank one. "She'll be here in a couple minutes," Kennedy said matter-of-factly, tapping her forehead. The witch's telepathy then, that she must share with her lover. Handy maybe, but bloody annoying. Spike didn't need Buffy in his head too. More than she normally was. Was enough of a jumble in there already.

Jade had pushed up from the table, away and out of the room, not exactly in a blink, but fast enough. Still, Spike stayed where he was, looking back at Buffy. Didn't much care for the excluded party, and he wanted some sodding options.

"What so important you wanted to whisper behind me back, then?" Spike asked irately. He could see Buffy's brow furrow, lips set in a straight, thin line.

"I think your charge wants to talk to you," Buffy said with emphasis, pushing back some of her damnably golden hair that had begun to slunk in front of her face. "We need her on board first before we can make with the big changes, so go talk to her then." There was a snappish quality to Buffy's tone, something synonymous with her jealous nature. Bloody hell, it was a mite frustrating, smushed in the sandwich of two worked up broads, but he supposed Buffy had a point. Didn't 'spect Jade to protest as much as she did, and he was more than curious why, it was a necessity. Couldn't just let it be hanging unknown.

"Fine, then. Be back in a mo." He wasn't one for acceding quietly, so he left quickly before Xander the wanker could tease him for it. He stepped out into the hallway. Plenty of chits hanging about. Early afternoon, still. Just a bit after they'd had their little luncheon. These were the older ones, mostly. Younger broads still doing their learnings, would come for early practice or late. Used to be Spike knew their schedules right off the back of his hand. Had come back, done some training with them after LA. Thought it might be a chance to be near with Buffy again, after the whole dying in a burning flame thing. Thought it might lead to something more. That had been a might hopeful, but when was Spike not a prat in all things about love. Thought he could force it when he couldn't. That had been a mistake he promised himself he'd never make again.

He peered through the hallways, sighting through the broads, looking for one in particular. There she was, already at the end of the corridor, standing by herself as if that was the biggest surprise in the world. It wasn't.

She was staring at some mural—god awful in Spike's opinion, some way to make the hotel more like home, he supposed, but it was painted by some of the young girls he imagined, who though they might have a career in art after all of this passed by. Should just stick to slaying.

"Bloody awful, isn't it?" He commented as he approached her. She didn't move, but he knew she heard him. Of course she did. Vamp hearing, after all. She probably heard him and half the conversations in this hall. Bit of a mess sorting them. Spike mostly just avoided the lot, although he was sure there were quite a few whispers about him. Wasn't ego speaking, just experience.

Her fingers curled from where they were placed on the wall, next to a fire breathing dragon. Dragons, of all things. Spike had fought a bloody dragon, and he could tell any one of the chits that it wasn't all fun and games.

"Why?" She asked, to the wall.

"You'll have to be a bit mo' specific than that, luv—"

"Why?" She repeated, this time angry, her teeth grit tight as she spun around, away from the wall, to face him. Her eyes were a blazing blue, and he forgot how much he missed that. Missed that pure passion in them, even if it was mostly spun into irritation at the moment—irritation at him for that matter. But no, she'd been all stone faced and unemotional, pretending she didn't feel thing over the last couple weeks. Enough to drive a bloke mad. But here she was, fierce. "You know I wanted this. Something. Something that I could do. And you—just try to—" So mad she stumbled over her own words, yes, Spike inspired that in many a woman. Probably not an accomplishment to hang on his wall in a shiny frame.

"Still not quite following you. Gotta tell me what's got you so worked up." Spike said, more straight than she could manage. Her brow furrowed, dark eyebrows causing creases in her pale, marble skin. She snapped her bottom lip with annoyance, and then stilled herself. He could see the change over her, seen it plenty of times. Hated this part. Where she managed to pull out that inexorable restraint and act all cool and collected. Not this time. He reached out and gripped her arm, pushing her back to the wall. Her shoulders fell flat against it, leaning back in such a way she allowed herself to be pushed but didn't let it jar her. Blue eyes gleamed back at his, icy this time.

"Just say what's on your mind, then," He said, looking down at her. Half a head difference, even if she sprung up onto her tippy-toes, they wouldn't be equal in height. Yet she stood so strong on her own he mostly didn't notice how small she was next to him. Partly because small came attached to fragile, and she wasn't fragile. Least not of body. Hell, she could have thrown him down the hallway by now if she had the inkling. Still might. But her mind, that wasn't so tough. Still too much doubt in there she didn't need, too much second-guessing. Guilt for no bloody reason. "No filterin'," He added. "I'm a big boy. Sure I can handle it." Taunting her now, trying to get her angry. Helped her open up more.

"I wanted to.." She stumbled again, over those words of hers. He pushed a bit deeper around the arm he held in his possession. Knew it wouldn't hurt her, but she felt that pressure. Eyes flipped up to meet his. Still had that fire, and that's what he wanted. Knew it was there. "I wanted to prove myself. That I could do this on my own," She explained.

"Nothing to prove, luv." He replied automatically. Tried nailing that through her head so many times, but the chit didn't get it. And when had he started calling her 'luv' again? Had tried to stop it at one point, conscientiously. When it had made her to stiffen instead of relax.

"To myself," Jade insisted. "And I can do this. Alone. I don't need help."

"Seems to me the plan's a bit empty-holed that way."

"Then I'll make it work," She said, mouth dipping down at the corners, indignant.

"Never pegged you for the barmy kind, Bloody Mary," Spike said, which was mostly true. Alright, there'd be a couple times he was almost sure she had crossed into full bug-shagging crazy, but she'd managed to walk that line without much leeway. "It's too dangerous on your bloody own."

"I can handle myself."

"Sure. Until you can't. Then you're all alone and up the island without a way out. Accepting help doesn't make you weak."

"I don't mind accepting help!" She said, a bit louder. Drawing a bit of attention to themselves now. Lingering looks from the chits in the halls, though Jade hadn't seemed to notice.

"Just not from me," Spike said, filling in the words that she hadn't said. He could see it now, plain as day. Was the fact he'd offered to tag along that rubbed her the wrong way. Thought her chaperoning wasn't going to end. Or maybe she just didn't want to see him anymore. He was used to that too.

Her eyes closed, so still she was a statue. Didn't need to say anything, her silence answered enough.

"Bother you that much, do I?" Spike asked, a bit harsher now. It did hurt, being right about that. Wish it didn't, but he'd always been such a bleeding heart, and there was no difference now. He'd taken her under his wing, much as he could. Guided her through the bloody first confusing months of her adapting to life as a vampire, and now first chance she got, she wanted to sever the bloody link.

What kind of sodding thank you was that.

"It's dangerous." Jade murmured.

"That is what I said, yeah."

"For you, I mean."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Alright Super Girl," He let go of her arm, but didn't step back, still crowding her to the wall. She didn't push him back either, although he knew she was full capable of it if she wanted to. Didn't have to hold back against him as much as the little Slayerettes she had fought. He wasn't so wee and mortal. "Got yourself a bit of power now, do you? Gotta look down on your inferiors, don't want them tripping up your feet, do you—"

"That's not what I meant," Jade implored, the anger shifting from her eyes, empathy filling it instead. Good lord, he didn't want the sympathy from her 'bout his hurt feelings. Still, guess he could only go so long until some chit had to remind him he didn't have much use. "They know you, Spike. I bet Harmony's not the only one who's heard of you. If I bring you in there, in the whole nest—they could seriously hurt you. Or worse."

He sucked in his lower jaw, skewing up his face. Watched Jade's flicker from his cheekbones back to his eyes. "I think you'll find they'd rather keep me unliving, be that the case."

"You don't know that." Jade argued.

"I know that you don't got to deliver me into their sodding hands. Just dangle me in front of their noses. A whole 'looky what I caught' kind of deal. It ain't about handing me off to the 'man', it's about getting your leg in the door. And Vampires, they respect a bit of hierarchy. You show them you aren't one to be mussed with and you'll find them falling in line. Not so strong minded, most of them."

"Unfortunately, I'm not a Jedi," Jade muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," She shook her head to clear it, but he could see he was beginning to win her over. "So you think I can keep you safe." She reiterated, slowly, more calmly.

"Hurts a fellow's manliness when you put it like that."

" _Spike._ "

"Piffle. Yeah," He sighed. "You keep me safe, I watch your back, Bloody Mary. It's how we been doing things, yeah? Worked out well enough. Better than sending you in there all on your lonesome, and I bet you haven't even thought 'bout how you're going to be getting blood through this time."

Her lip twitched, which was a large tell to Spike being correct. "I assume that they'd have a plan—"

"Don't assume too much. Being vampires doesn't come first to them, thinking 'bout blood and that ain't natural. So the quicker this gets going, the less of a chance you get to see just how long you can last without something to eat." He took a step back, and he could see her relax, those slim shoulders of hers lowering. Wasn't always a time that she was so on edge when he was near her. "But I bloody promise you, the moment Harm hears I'm there, she'll come bouncing out of the woodwork. There's the sodding foot to the sodding door, instead of worming around for a couple of days like a dazed deer, hoping you'll get to at least hear some important name."

There was still hesitation, but he knew her doubts were washing away. He'd always been good at the persuasion when it counted, and he wasn't making this up. It made sense, which is why he had suggested it. Didn't know it would ruffle her feathers quite so much, but that wasn't his fault.

"Alright," She acceded, finally. "But I'm not letting you out of my sight. And if they want to kill you, we're ending it. The mission." She clarified. "No skirting with the danger's edge."

He smirked. "Don't you know, luv. That's my favorite kind of skirt."

She frowned. "Spike. I mean it."

"Scout's honor," He raised his left hand, twitching two of his fingers.

Her eyes drifted from his fingers back to him. "You were never a scout," She countered. "But let me guess, you ate one once?"

He brought his hand to his heart as if in pain. "Makes me a might sad to have you chock fun at my jokes before I get a chance to say them."

Her lips twinged, almost a smile, but didn't quite make it. He could see from her expression that she wasn't all sun and rainbows about it all, but she'd listen to reason. And she'd listen to him. Had done it for the last couple of months with barely a word in edgewise, she was more used to it now. Then she looked over his shoulder, seeing someone there.

"We can go back now," Jade audibled. "At least, I assume that's what Xander's strange hand waving meant."

"Good. All on board, then." Spike said.

 **AN:** _I've updated these last three days because of my weekend, so yay to no work, but since I work the next five days, less updating now. Not quite my peak, which used to be 6 times a week, but I have gotten back up to writing a bit again and I hope it keeps up. And these have been looong chapters. When I originally started updating, they were like 2.5-3k and these ones have been around 4.5-6k and holy cow that's a lot. I'm at about 45k since I started NaNo, and I still have two more chapters written after these. Will do my best to continue to entertain, and thank you for all your patience around Spike-Buffy. I promise it won't last forever, but every twist and turn is necessary so thank you for not bashing me too hard about a Spike-Jade fic that has a lot of Buffy loving. I just figured that Spike really was in love with Buffy and it takes him a loooong old time to get over that. An upwards of 300k and rising at least. But thank you again for reviews, I love reading them, and they make me want to write more. Hope you enjoy this until the next update which will likely be Friday! :)_


	65. Chapter 64

**64**

They swept back towards the meeting room door, Spike towering over her, though not as much as it had seemed a minute ago. When he had taken up the broad side of her eyesight, glancing down at her. So close. Like the last time they had kissed, but it had been different then. She couldn't help but place the comparisons side by side, so she'd been slow to force herself from his grasp. Hadn't found it in her to move her arm at all once Spike had gripped it. He should have been the same temperature as her—room-wise and all, but somehow he seemed warmer as he gripped her so hard it was enough to hurt. But pain was something she'd had enough dealings with, and the pressure wasn't enough to pain her really. Then he had let go the moment their conversation had subsided, and she felt just a twinge of regret when he stepped back, giving her more space.

Yeah, she needed the space. Was harder to remember herself when he was so close, the taste of blood and cinders on his breath, the smirks in his pronounced lips, the delicate curves of his face. Harder not to appreciate Spike when he was so damn close. But he didn't get it, didn't get it all.

Didn't get how it had twisted and churned her stomach when he blatantly declared that he was coming along for the ride. Didn't understand how it made her feel. He was the one supposed to support her and trust her, and he wouldn't even let her do this one thing by herself. The one thing that might prove to herself that she could handle it, that she could handle herself. And in a safer place. Didn't have to infiltrate a school full of children who often wounded themselves out of accident, no, it was a place of vampires. A place where she didn't have to worry about eating the bodies around her. A place where she wouldn't have to think about Spike and Buffy for a while.

But that relief didn't last long. And he didn't understand why she didn't want him along. Didn't want them to have another mission where they'd bond and get closer, and Jade would forget as she needed not to, that Spike was spoken for and not hers at all. Not even close. So she didn't want to pretend, didn't want a buddy in him, not now. Just wanted it over with, Spike far away so she could get over herself. But he was offering to come, and somehow, Buffy was agreeing. So sure of her own hold on Spike, maybe. But there was something akin to sadness in the blonde Slayer's green eyes, and Jade didn't know why. Couldn't think on it much either, since it was hard to hold sympathy for Buffy. Bitterness, Jade supposed.

But Spike had a point, and hell if she couldn't ignore it. It was frightening, she had to admit. The thought of going there alone, with no backup. It was scary because of the bauble around her neck, the only thing that kept her apart from the vampires she was supposed to infiltrate. And he knew that, and exploited that reasoning and wormed his way in. And she wouldn't be rid of Spike, again. And she hated the relief that followed that thought.

"'Sides," Spike was drawling, back to his casual, certain persona. And just a little smug about it too as he passed her. "The whole actin' like a vampire thing. You'd have a terrible time of it on your own. Be a spot too obvious."

Followed by a roar similar to that of a lion, there was a crack of impact only the barest of seconds after the words left his mouth. His head had smacked to the wall, her forearm brought right to his neck, pinning him there. The hands that had rose up to her to fend her off or to defend himself were pushed out of the way by her free arm as she clasped one arm and kept it in place, immobilizing his other arm with the rest of her body. He was pressed to the wall, as she had been, but unlike him, he couldn't free himself, struggling vainly for a second before stopping. The smirk had dropped from his face the moment he saw her face. Jade felt her forehead firm up, the fangs dripping down to her bottom lip and she knew her gold eyes glinted up to his blue ones.

"Shut up," She growled at him, pressing tighter on his throat. He wheezed, not quite able to respond. "Know your place." She could feel his hip press to her waist, due to how she nestled him against the wall, not at all gently. But she was waiting for the surprise to cross his face, and there it was, his cerulean eyes wide, eyebrows arched and bottom lip just a little open as he searched for something to say but couldn't quite choke it up. Having his throat pinioned, however, probably didn't help his speech.

But the shock is what she wanted, the bewilderment and confusion splayed across his handsome features, and that's when she released him, taking a step back. She settled herself with an inhale she didn't need, all too relieved to shift her countenance back to human. She didn't quite have the smug look he had before she had crushed him to the wall, but she glanced at him expectantly.

She could see the cogs working in his head as he figured it out, his shoulders dropping from their tensed position as he hauled himself off of the wall. She bit back a wince after seeing the slight Spike-sized dent that was etched into the wall now, slight dust trickling from it due to the crumbling drywall. "Bloody hell, woman," Spike said, shaking his head as he felt tenderly along his skull. "I think you cracked my noggin."

He was always telling her not to go so 'bloody easy' on him during their fights, and at least she had finally listened to his advice, but that didn't keep her from feeling a twinge of guilt.

"Was I convincing?" She asked, trying not to sound overly perky and excited. Didn't want to sound like a schoolgirl looking for praise. But she had reacted, as quickly as she could with time to think about it, and this was important.

"'Spose so," Spike said, still caressing the back of his head, another hand at his neck. "Not quite there yet, but at least you got more roar than a bitty kitten."

"Did I miss something?" Xander asked from where he stood, still waiting outside the meeting room door. His eye was open with more surprise, and now apprehensive as he took in the vampires before him. "Was the wall being rude?"

"Just practicing a bit of the tough guy vamp talk," Spike said casually with a shrug as he shouldered past the one-eyed man.

Jade gave an apologetic grimace. "Sorry about the wall." She passed Xander too, hearing the man mutter something about how just because he was a carpenter meant everyone felt incline to wreck things, but he followed drolly behind them. And there was Willow, standing next to Kennedy. The redhead's smile helped make Jade feel more at ease, for she was always so welcoming it was hard to feel unwanted in her presence.

Buffy was still sitting, glancing up at Willow and Kennedy, turning to see the vampires return. Her eyes flicked petulantly between the two of them, lips slightly pursed.

"How did mommy and daddy's talk go?" Spike asked, as derisive as ever. Jade had seen how kind he could be, how caring he really was, but back with the Scoobies, or the 'goodie goods' as Spike called them, he often reverted to a more churlish, sullen joker. And sometimes that reflected onto his conversations with her, where he puffed up his feathers and talked the talk. But Jade was curious as well, easily sliding into a seat as Xander closed the door behind them.

"We talked about it," Buffy started, looking at Willow.

"Had a few wiccan, magic stuff to discuss," The redhead explained. "But I think I should be able to manage some of it."

"What magicky, witchy stuff do you have in mind?" Spike asked suspiciously. "You know I don't care much for your spells. Downright unnatural."

"And yet those words couldn't possibly be used to describe _you_ at all, Spike," Xander put in, although he received a warning look from Buffy.

"Just a couple of things to help. One being, well. If the two of you are going in, you'll probably want a safe way to you know, talk."

"I have a feeling I'm not going to like this," Spike warned.

"Telepathy, yeah." Willow shrugged. "Like we used to do in the old days. During our patrols."

"Yes, it was such a pleasure having you in my head," Spike said sarcastically. "You and the rest of the scoobies."

"Well, it would just be you and Jade. I should be able to tap into it, to you know, check in." Willow added. "But I can enchant these little rings, and it should mean you guys can speak to each other. Well, think to each other."

"What?" Jade said, clueing in suddenly to the daunting prospect. She remembered once when Willow nearly looked through her head to find more information on Sophie, and Jade had disagreed to it strongly back then. That didn't change. She didn't want anyone else in her head, and the last one she would choose was Spike. Just couldn't. "I don't think that sounds very—necessary. Necessary," She corrected herself, winging for an excuse. "We can just talk quietly as we always do."

"Vampire hearing, luv," Spike reminded her, but he didn't sound gung-ho either. "They'd pick it up easy peasy."

"Yeah. This makes it safer. And it wouldn't be like, every thought." Willow tried to reassure her. "Just if you had something to say, just concentrate a little and Spike should get it. And vice versa."

"Sounds bloody unnecessary."

"It's necessary," Buffy stated firmly. "Unless you plan to mime your thoughts to each other."

"But you're okay with the whole mission thing?" Willow added, turning her attention back to Jade. "I mean, it's not exactly safe as a whole."

"Yeah," Jade said quietly, repeating herself a bit louder as Willow strained to hear her. "Makes sense for two of us, too." She added with a look at Spike, who at least this time wasn't beaming so smugly back at her, just thoughtful, his blue eyes half lidded. "I get that it's still risky, but I'm guessing that goes for most of your plans."

"That would be a yes," Xander nodded his head up and down.

"But it's not an end of the world thing," Buffy added. "You don't get the information, big deal. It's a loss but we can handle it. You do, that's a win for us. Lets us see exactly what's happening ahead of time instead of it being sprung on us like a ugly sweater for Christmas we didn't want. But dying for it, that's a no. If you can't find out what Harmony's up to, then we'll deal. But you have a chance better than any of us. And the last thing we need is another Slayer getting picked on in the news for doing their job and trying to pick out the bad guys."

"Well, not a Slayer. Don't have to worry about that." Jade said, a bit too tightly.

"Yeah, but you're still one of us." Willow proclaimed brightly. "So we want to make it as non-dangery as possible."

"What about blood?" Spike asked bluntly, before Jade had a chance to thank the witch for her friendliness. Was nice to feel included at a time she felt very alone. She had felt like this before, after Bennett had died, and she had left Pen in the dust, running to Haven. But that didn't mean it got any easier, these years later. "How is she going to manage that?"

Willow glanced at Buffy. "That's where it gets a bit less certain," The wiccan admitted.

"Figured as much," Spike drawled assuredly.

"There's a couple of options," Willow continued. "That if you leave the headquarters, go out for a hunt or something, we can have the Slayers in the city meet you. Hook you up with some good ol' animal blood. But that's only if you're allowed out. If not, we'll have to be a bit more creative."

"If not, see how long we can go without blood, then?" Spike quipped. "What about any blood bags throughout the building just waiting for a nibble?"

"Well, Los Angeles hasn't reported a huge amount of disappearances," Xander pointed out. "So at least they haven't been stealing people and hiding them in their basement."

"Doesn't mean they won't be there. Not to mention the 'I heart vampires' groupies outside the big HQ," Spike retorted. "Can see them wandering in, wanting to be a part of the excitement. And since Harm's been trying to keep their nose clean, anyone in there will probably still be alive."

"That is possible, yeah," Xander admitted stiffly.

"So nothing really concrete on that front, then," Spike translated, sitting back in his chair superciliously.

"We don't know how long you'll be in there," Buffy pointed out. "Might just be a day if they have a book titled 'Super Evil Plans' lying out in the open."

"Yeah, that's bloody likely."

"And it could be longer," Buffy stressed with a glare at her lover. "We don't have all the answers."

"Alright," Jade said. "That's enough for me. I'll do it. The rest, we can figure out as we go along."

"Never might liked solid plans anyway," Spike mumbled, mostly to himself, keeping up appearances as he looked about the room.

"When did you want us to go?" Jade said, still trying to get used to the thought that Spike was going to. She was relieved, she couldn't hide that completely. It was daunting to go on her own without any backup, particularly with the whole feeding part. Not knowing for sure where—or _when_ —she'd be getting her blood was bothersome enough. But with Spike, it'd be easier. He always seemed to have some idea of what to do, something to help. She relied on that, couldn't help herself.

Buffy glanced at Willow, who shrugged.

"I can enchant the rings today. Have enough supplies."

"Tonight, then." Buffy decided. "Harmony's having an appearance on the Late Show with David Letterman next week, to talk about vamps again, and I'd rather have an inside scoop before then." She wrinkled her nose at the mention of Harmony on the talk show, adding crossly, "Because she's the one that deserves to look fancy in a pretty dress and high heels."

"David Letterman doesn't have that many important guests on it anyway, Buffy," Willow said to comfort her.

"What? He had Drew Barrymore. That was a great episode," Xander said dreamily, not noticing the glares from the two women. They were all in good fun, at least. Even when they bickered, there was a closeness between the trio that no-one could deny. Something that Jade couldn't help but envy. She had a right lack of best friends, and it was a bit pathetic to think that the closest she could name were probably Lyth, Eddie and Spike.

There were a few more things to discuss, more information on Harmony and the vampire group, but as Buffy had said, they didn't know much. That was the whole point. After they had been dismissed, Jade left them where they were and headed up to her room. At least she hadn't bothered to unpack. Not that it mattered much now, as her fingers felt the edge of her dufflebag. She probably shouldn't bring it with her anyway. Maybe there were more trinkets that she needed to take, related to the mission. She'd have to ask. As it stood, there were still hours before they had to leave, although the sun was growing dimmer, and when it completely disappeared for the day, it'd soon be time to go. And she could think of nothing she wanted to do beforehand, no-one she really needed to see.

She could guess where Spike was, where he'd want to be spending his precious few hours before being sent away for who knew how long. But Jade, she took that time to shower, revelling in the feel of a body warm enough for it to be a human's, feeling herself rapidly cool as she stepped back into her room. Her hair hung, thick and dark, just short of reaching her shoulders, even slicked down. She dressed carefully, keeping away from the graphic tees she loved so much. Spiderman and Star Wars shirts wouldn't help her case here. Unsure what to wear, she settled with worn jeans and her jean jacket. Probably didn't look vampiric enough, but Jade's white, nearly marble skin should fulfill that part. And there was this. Jade felt her forehead grow bumpy, her teeth hard in her mouth. She hated the feel of it, hated looking like this, even if she couldn't accidentally see herself in a mirror. She had only one indication of what she looked like, and she scrounged in the bottom of her duffle bag for it. There it was, one edge crumpled. Not a loving picture of her family or her cats, but the one picture she had as a reminder. And there she was, in full vamp face, looking back at the camera.

She'd gotten Lyth to take it. Lorne would have called her sweetie and offered her a drink instead. Eddie would have looked uncomfortable and tried to talk her out of it. Spike would have told her she was 'off her gourd' and flat out refuse. Lyth was the only one who shrugged and complied easily, even throwing Jade a compliment—or as much as the Mok'Tagar Demon could manage one. Said that Jade didn't look 'that bad'. Now, as Jade saw it, she felt her stomach clench. She looked at it every once in a while to remind herself. It still didn't feel like her. Even without a scowl, she looked angry. Inhuman. Eyes that had always been blue were a vicious cold. Her lips weren't less full, but she reminded herself of a boxer with a mouthguard, with the way her fangs protruded so much, clearly visible in the shot. And her eyebrows, those were gone, instead, ridges were there instead. As Jade scanned the picture, she felt along her face. That was what she looked at, she willed herself to realise. That's what she would have to rely on for the next while. Vampires went vamp-face among themselves, normally. That's what they really were. So she had to get over cringing and hating how she must look.

She made herself look for long minutes. She remembered the little exercises she tried as a much younger girl. Telling herself she looked beautiful in the mirror so that she could start to believe it. It was an assignment from one of her teachers, trying to build self-confidence in her students. And it had worked for little Jade, until the next time she was told her face looked like a tomato and her hair was too stringy.

"You are beautiful," Jade tried now, in a whisper to the picture. She felt a little ridiculous, and she probably was. That wasn't beautiful, what she was looking at. It was horrific. Disgusting. Still, she knew how Spike would react.

 _Find it that repellant, do you?_ And his features would morph, his beautiful features, the smoothest cheekbones, full lips and blue eyes, and yet somehow he was still handsome, even with his dark, scarred brow gone and his teeth elongated, fangy. Somehow _he_ was still handsome. So she tried again, for his sake. "You are beautiful."

Except she didn't need beauty where she was going. She needed strength. "Strong as the mountain," Jade murmured to the picture, drawing her thumb across the projected bumpy forehead. That, she could believe. Not that her vamp face was attractive or appealing or anything but monstrous, but that that woman depicted was as strong as anything. Strong as the mountain. It was a favorite saying of Jade's, one she had said to herself when Pen had faced her with a task Jade had found too daunting. When she had to break her hands but still hold a stake, hold her breath and get forced under water, it was one thing she recited to herself. That, or thought about Bennett. Until after he passed, and then she had nothing but her mantra. And it soothed her now, standing there with the picture in her hand, it was easier and easier to accept it as the minutes went on.

And then there was a knock on the door. Startled, she felt her human countenance return. She could hear a heartbeat on the other end of the door, smelt the scents of herbs and other earthly scents.

"Come in, Willow." She said to the door, shoving her picture to the bottom of her bag and sitting on the edge of the bed in the mere second it took for the witch to open the door and let herself in. Her long, fiery red hair was twisted up into a hairclip, a few strands escaping which had then been tucked behind the wiccan's ear. She wobbled a bit into the room, as if she was intruding into Jade's private escape, and not just a room that had been lent to Jade while she stayed at the Slayer's base.

"Hi. Did you get some sleep? I realise that it's daylight, but that means it's like, night time for you, so…" Willow's well-meaning conversation tapered off uncertainly, but Jade didn't take it personally. She had figured out that the endearing awkwardness of Willow wasn't due to her being unnerved by Jade's presence specifically, just due to Willow's own quirkiness. Jade liked that about the witch. That she was still herself, despite the hidden anguish Jade sometimes glimpsed behind Willow's hazel eyes. Jade knew the reasoning for some of it. She had some of Anya's memories, after all, from when she had been possessed by the gate of the dead, and some memories had stayed, some of Tara's, some of Miss Calendar's, some of Anya's. Even the elder Summers', Buffy's own mother. So Jade knew of Willow's descent of darkness, even if most of the time the witch showed no indication of what had happened to her. It was just in her eyes, the worry that sometimes lingered there.

"Not yet," Jade said to halt Willow's ramblings. Yeah, she had seen glimpses of Dark Willow, but it didn't scare her. It comforted her, in reality. Willow had come back from that. There was always some chance for redemption, wasn't there? Though she had turned into something darker, she pushed through it now. Though Jade had died, that didn't mean it would always define her, being this Slaypire with a precarious soul. At least she hoped so. "Probably right before we leave."

"Yeah, that's fair. I hope your room is to your liking. Oh. And Sophie wanted me to give you this." Willow reached into her jean pocket, fishing out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Jade. It was mostly scribbles, large symbols that barely resembled anything, but she could see two large circles with golden hair the same color as the circles' skin, with two bright blue eyes. Those small circles, which she assumed was Sophie, was next to two large symbols. They were colored in yellow as well—Jade was beginning to suspect Sophie didn't have a peach colored marker—except with dark brown hair. And a skewed smile that looked like it verged into fangs.

"She meant well," Willow reminded her, and Jade thought maybe she hadn't hid her grimace as well as she thought. "I think they're hugging." There were certainly lines sketched across the circles that could have been arms in a child's imagination, and Jade looked at the picture once more before carefully refolding it.

"Thank her for me if I don't see her?" Jade asked. Willow nodded immediately.

"Of course," The redhead said easily, not questioning Jade on why she wasn't bothering to visit Sophie again before she left. The witch understood Jade's aversion to closeness, and maybe just her hesitation in general. "I'll tell her." They stood in silence for a few seconds that might not have seemed so long for a human, but they were for Jade. She could hear the beats of Willow's heart, but it was relatively stable.

"Are you scared?" Willow asked after those seconds had passed. "I mean, not that you have reason to be. Really aren't trying to send you into the Lion's den without a hope. Although it sorta is the Lion's den, but I mean if we thought the danger was really, really bad then we wouldn't—"

"I think any mission involving you guys is going to have some danger attached to it," Jade reassured the witch with a smile. "Goes with the territory."

Willow relaxed, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear. "It's really appreciated, you know. I don't want you think that we like, expected you to do this. But it should help."

"And you think you'll be able to tap in from time to time?" Jade questioned.

"Should be. Provided there's not too much interference in the way. That reminds me…" Willow shoved her hand back into her pocket, pulling out another gift. This one was in the shape of a ring, bright, untarnished silver with a brilliant cerulean blue gem in the middle of what looked like a snake's mouth. Twisting, coiling, the body of the snake made up the rest of the ring.

"Wow," Jade murmured, accepting it from Willow's hand. She turned it in her fingers, feeling the grooves of each etched scale, lighting running her skin over the pronounced fangs.

"Couldn't really make it too shiny and pretty. Don't think it's as big with the vamp community. Although Harmony always had a thing for unicorns, so maybe it would have worked if I had shaped it like that instead."

"It's amazing," Jade elaborated. "Did you find it, or make it, or…"

"Made it. Shaped it from some metal. Sounds really intricate and hard, but that's the nice thing about magic. Don't tell Xander. He doesn't think it's real crafting unless you use thumbs and a hammer and that sort of thing."

"It's amazing," Jade reiterated, unable to think of another word to say. She went to put it on her left hand's pointer finger, then paused. "Spike's not wearing his, is he? I don't want to start with having him in my head just yet."

"Haven't given it to him yet," The witch reassured her. "He's been with—I haven't seen him." Willow corrected herself a bit lamely, and Jade busied herself with looking at the ring so she wouldn't show her discomfort. At least there was no blush to give it away, but was it that obvious anyway? Maybe Spike _had_ told Buffy about Jade's feelings for him, and the blonde had found it necessary to spread it to Willow. Or maybe just everyone could tell. That was an even worse option.

"Then I'll wear it now," Jade said assuredly, jamming it onto her finger. It was bright among her pale skin, and she admired it for another second before Willow spoke again.

"There was something else we thought of. Well, Spike first." Willow started. Jade glanced at her, curious. "Your soul." Willow explained. "Some vampires can sense those things. The more, like attuned ones. Or crazy ones."

"Well that's awful," Jade exclaimed. "That's a big setback. How—"

"Spike had a solution for that," Willow interrupted her gently. "It's not like a warning signal goes off when you're near. And it's a bit different for you because your soul isn't exactly on the inside. It's out, which is confusing enough. And those who can tell, it'll be because they're looking in your eyes. So, solution: don't look at anyone in the eyes for longer than three seconds."

"Three seconds," Jade repeated.

"Yeah. I mean, that'd be really, really hard for me. They go by so fast. But seconds go by a bit slower for you, don't they? I mean, perspective wise. More time to react?"

Jade nodded contemplatively. "I should be able to handle that. Three seconds. I can do that."

"Count your Mississippis." Willow dipped her head solemnly, and then a bit brashly, reached out to the vampire and squeezed her hand. Jade let her, surprised.

"I won't give you a hug," The witch continued. "I know you didn't really like them _before_ the whole, you know. Blood lusty thing. But good luck, Jade. I'll try to check in on you. Just keep those rings near. They'll help me hone in from a distance."

"Thank you, Willow." Jade said sincerely. "It'll make me feel better knowing you're there, watching out for us. And I won't let you down."

"Never thought you would," Willow reassured her.


	66. Chapter 65

**65**

"What's the matter, luv?" Spike asked. Could see something was wrong, bloody obvious from that little nestle of wrinkles taking site in the middle of her forehead, her bottom lip puckered out just a bit, not quite a pout, but distracting enough. He had closed the door behind them, following her without much questions. And now she paced once across the room, her blonde hair twirling back over her shoulder as she turned back to look at him, green eyes searching his.

"Nothing," She said, not even half an attempt to make up a sodding lie he'd believe.

"Mhm-hmm." He answered skeptically. He took a long stride to her, but she didn't back away, letting his hands reach out to her cheeks, cup the smooth edge of her jaw and rest gently on her warm flesh. This was Buffy, warm and beautiful, with her heart pumping smoothly in her chest. This was all he should ever want, and he had her now. There was no more worrying about what he should be doing, wondering what he should be doing with the rest of his unlife. He should know, now. All he needed was her.

At least, it should be. Should be that they fit together like two puzzle pieces. Should be that he'd be alone in this room with her and thinking about nothing else but her. After all, he'd fought for his soul because of his love for Buffy. Only had it for that reason. His love had to endure for ages, otherwise he was just a phony prat.

"I just thought you'd be staying around for a while," Buffy's eyes had closed, allowing him to caress her face. A few of his fingers travelled southward, brushing her neck, and she stiffened for a heartbeat before forcing her slim frame to relax. But Spike had seen it, and without a word, turned his hands back to her hair instead. Silky, smooth, with delicate Goldilocks curls, he tried to hide his concern. 'Course, he still had to get used to her flinching from time to time. That brief hesitation in her green eyes when she remembered what he had nearly done to her. Seems she had forgiven him for it, but forgetting, no, not all the time. Was hard to deal with that, knowing sometimes he approached her, got too close, and she just returned to that panic, that moment. He'd do anything to erase how he had acted, to take it away, but it was beyond his sodding power. Even affected their making love. Buffy got a might distressed if he was ever on top of her, so he just let her dictate the whole thing. Didn't mind that part, really. Buffy had never let him down in that way. A beautiful body, stamina like no other, but he always had to be thinking about it, had to be on top of it or be a bloody screw up again.

"Might not be that long," He tried to reassure her, leaning forward and placing his lips on the curve of her cheek, placing gentle kisses to her ear and the strands of hair that attacked his nose. He felt her relax a bit, although her arms were still hugging herself, not him.

"It's dangerous, though. And I can't—"

"Shh," He placed a finger in the middle of those damnably kissable lips. And she relented, for a moment, her eyes glancing up to him, big and wide. Looking near vulnerable for a minute, instead of the tough swagger she put on before her troops. He liked this Buffy. Felt like she was his when she didn't need to put those walls up. "I'll be fine. Got a Slaypire at my back, remember. Jade—"

"Jade," Buffy shook her head, freeing herself from Spike's grasp and stepping back. He knew better than to reach out for her. If he even made her feel a little crowded, he could be thrown through the air and flying through a wall and that was a escape route he wanted to avoid.

"Luv—"

"No. I get it. You two work well together," There was irritation in Buffy's voice, gnashing of her pearly whites together.

"This was your plan," He reminded her. "Needed a vampire to do the job, didn't you?"

"Just one," She said, grinding her teeth. "You weren't supposed to—"

"It's too much of a job for just one," He reminded her, softly. "This is the only way it works, luv. Need both of us."

"I know. But I'm allowed to worry, aren't I? Because I will. Because they _know_ you, Spike. At least Harmony will. And though you've managed to wrap _her_ around your finger, that doesn't mean I'm thrilled about sending you back into her reach again either."

"You've got nothing to worry about. Especially not about Harm," Spike scoffed. "And she won't kill me. Never been able to in the past. She threatened me with a stake once but I'm pretty sure she doesn't have the stones to actually—"

"Shut up," The Slayer breathed, taking a step back towards him and cutting off his words with a furious kiss on his lips. "You have to come back. And not in an urn."

"Urns are bloody ugly things," He shuddered, but curled his arms around her waist before she had another chance to recoil. "Promise, luv. I'll be back in one piece. Bearing the news you want. Be just right as rain. We both will."

Something flashed in her green eyes, but she slowly nodded. "You better."

* * *

"Guess it's time to head out," Spike commented, seeing as the last traces of the sun were down. He glanced behind him to Buffy whose hair was still mussed from early, but endearing in its messiness.

"There'll be Slayers in Los Angeles, standing by," Buffy said.

"I know, luv. You've told me already. Don't feel guilty just 'cuz one of them's not you."

"Sorry I have to go to Europe, but—"

"Already told you to stop worrying about it, yeah? 'Sides, you can't get mad at me for heading to LA for a bit since you were planning on skipping town anyway."

Her eyes softened as she stepped over to him. "I would have taken you with me."

He smiled back at her. "I know you would have, luv." And these were the moments he cherished, that were way too bloody few and far between, where there wasn't the demeaning banter, and Buffy finally let the bits of her peek out, the ones that actually cared for him, and she didn't pretend otherwise. Never lasted long, but it tasted sweet while it lasted.

And then they headed down the hall, where most of the kiddies were missing, no doubt under some training regiment now that school was out for the day. They reached the foyer, where Kennedy, Willow and Jade were standing there. Jade looked a tad different, dressed in more black even for her. Her face was still human, and that was a habit they'd have to work on breaking immediately. It wasn't quite a rule, but most vampires kept their game faces on while they were among each other, and she wanted to get out a good impression. An intimidating one, so her soft face and wide blue eyes wouldn't much attribute to that goal. There was a choker around her neck, one that she kept pulling at, and large combat boots that Spike approved of. If they weren't so feminine it might even be something he'd wear.

"Don't fidget. You look great. Well, great in a darker shade kind of way," Red was saying in reassurance.

"I feel ridiculous," Jade disagreed. "Like I'm back in my high school years, listening to MCR and Fall Out Boy."

"Well, then you're missing the trade mark black eyeliner," Willow continued cheerily. "If you let me just—"

"Not a chance. Probably wouldn't show up at that well with the different face thing anyway," Jade gestured vaguely to her countenance. Her sullenness about it was not missed by the wiccan.

"Well, it's enough anyhow. Maybe some dark red lipstick. I know you wouldn't think it to look at me, but I have dabbled with the all black look before. And told I'm not allowed to do it again." Must have been walking about her dark-witch descent, which Spike had conveniently missed by being out of town. Didn't want to think about how 'Dark Willow' would have wanted to punish Spike for any of his transgressions. No, he had had much better things to do, like getting the absolute bollocks knocked out of him trying to get his soul. Seemed so crystal at the time, but boy he did not consider the consequences.

"Let's just hope it's vampy enough," Jade was saying as he and Buffy approached. He watched her look at him from the corner of her eye, feeling mighty sneaky about it he was sure, but he caught it plain as day.

"I don't know if she's badly dressed enough to look like one of the vampires," Buffy said, joking. "I mean, I thought that was their dress code. Bad fashion."

"Oi," He said, shouldering her gently. Buffy arched an eyebrow back at him, eyeing the duster he had reclaimed from her room.

"Don't think you're an exception to that rule, mister."

"You don't like my duster?" He said in mock hurt.

"You mean the one that you took off a Slayer you killed? Gee, imagine."

"Not the same one," He thumbed the leather. "This is the Italian one, remember. Got it after my other one bit the dust."

"Close enough. As if a homage to it isn't just as bad."

"Ahem," Willow cleared her throat. "Here's your telepathy ring," She dropped it in his palm as he extended his hand. This one was his usual style, black with a silver center.

"Good taste, Red." He glanced at Jade, seeing her fingers weren't so bare as normal. She was wearing hers, then, he could see the shine of blue. That one suited her too. He dropped his in his pocket. Could wait for later.

"And you know where the Slayers will be. If you can get out, then report to them, they'll be waiting. Vi's there. If not, well. We'll see you when it's all done. Spend too long, we'll send the cavalry in," Buffy had started talking to Jade, then her green eyes flickered back to Spike.

"Best probably to avoid that," Spike reminded her. The Vampires weren't quiet about where they were keeping themselves, full in the public's eye. Slayers storming in would not go in unnoticed. Which is why they were doing this sodding thing, weren't they.

"Still." Buffy said with those paralyzing green eyes.

"Well. We'll be in South America, but I can still reach you. Good luck." Willow smiled at the female vampire.

"Yeah, good luck, Jade." Kennedy echoed, almost sounding as if someone had coached her through it. And two guesses who that would be, the wiccan making sure her girlfriend was civil.

"Thanks. We'll see you all soon."

One more kiss on plump lips, a kiss that seemed too fleeting, and Willow transported them to Los Angeles. Spike didn't know how he felt about that magic mojo, always seemed to turn his stomach into a right knot, but was faster than the six hour drive they would have had otherwise. And with Jade's shifting noise, he had no idea if he would have just been sitting with a silence so strong he might as well been sharing a vehicle with a slab of stone. As it was, this was quicker. And there they were, back in the city. Pulled from the hell it had nearly been sucked into, there were no longer legions of undead and scores of baddies and fire breathing dragons darkening in the sky. To most of the devastation, the public had gone generally unaware, and it didn't hurt that Los Angeles had been reset to the pre-apocalypse state, where normal people now ran around, blissfully unaware. At least they did, until a couple months ago. There might not be a Wolfram & Hart in LA anymore, but this sad excuse of a Vampire's base had rose up instead.

Spike didn't know how he felt about the whole thing. Mostly, it just crossed with his ideas of tradition. Not that he had totally ran under the radar while he'd been a vampire—slaughtering and killing at desire, and not too surreptitious about it either. But he still hadn't quite announced the presence of vampires to the whole world, now had he? No, just tortured a few blokes with railroad spikes, got into a few bar fights against overwhelming odds and had a couple of obvious bodies he tossed for the world to find. Still. Not like he'd gone right out and said it. Few plain ol' humans would find out, but that'd always happen. And seems to him like they veered in two directions. Become some demon hunter. Robin Wood came to mind. Spike offed his mother and though the man didn't have a lick of any supernatural help in him, he still took it upon his-self to rid the world of the good ol' fanged parties. Not that he got very far, although Robin was sitting pretty on top of a different Hellmouth now, the one in Cleveland, with a score of Slayers to watch. Spike'd count Wesley too. Though the tight tweed bloke had started out as most Watchers did, big on the reading and low on the actual field experience, he'd blossomed into an alright hunter himself. Til he met his end, on the night where Los Angeles went to hell.

Then there was the other side of it, the one that Spike understood just as much, but respected less. Turning into bloody fangirls and fanboys. Read one too many novel where they'd hoped pale and handsome would turn their life around. They were right buggered, thinking that. Yet he'd seen it several times. From a ol' friend of Buffy, hoping to turn into the Slayer to get an kiss of immortality. And all the little idiots in that bar, thinking they knew anything of darkness. But it seemed a never-ending cycle, because against all bloody sense, there were supporters for the Vampires just as there were people against it. The normies, who wanted a pretty normal American family, have the fella go off to the work and the little woman stay home and cook muffins, they'd resist it. But what use were they. Not like they'd take up in arms, they'd just shut their eyes to it and watch more telly. But the big protestors, who were always looking for something to add to their progressive rights belt, they'd tag right onto the issue like they had a bloody clue.

Prats.

Hadn't a clue about any of it.

They said goodbye to Red, the Witch vanishing after reminding them _again_ that she'd be checking in, as long as they kept those rings close, and pointing _again_ towards where the Slayer's hideouts were. This was a little one, not supposed to be one of their headquarters, but they'd put it there to deal with the Vampire's base. And little Vi was the head of it, the shy, incompetent Slayer she once had been was now the shiny spokesperson for the Slayers. She'd volunteered for it too, and she was a nice face. Not hardened like old steel like some of the Slayers. The vampires had picked blonde ol' Harmony to be their face, and the Slayers had picked Vi. Still, she wasn't all out there like Harmony was, who acted like she hadn't a care in the world, going to this and that meeting, getting her name on all the tabloids. Still, the good ol' public ate it up. Loved anything they could get their hands on, particularly Harmony, the git who didn't seem intimidating at all.

It was the Slayers the public didn't really like. Bunch of young girls stepping beyond their station, seeming a bit too arrogant and martyr-like for them to swallow. Doomed from the bloody start. Still, Spike had the same suspicions as the rest of the Scoobies. Though the vampires were walking the straight line, no overly obvious kills and keeping a goodie-good appearance to the public, there had to be something wonky going on. They wouldn't be in this for any run unless they had some thing on the side to satiate their hunger.

"Do we just… walk in, then?" Jade asked as they approached the building. In the bloody middle of downtown, sticking out like a sore thumb, they were making no attempt to hide. Being that it was still after sundown, there were still crowds mulling about, some human, some not.

"'Spose so. But I'm not your cohort from here in," Spike reminded her. "I'm your prize."

"Right." Jade tucked back her hair, displaying more of her marble white skin. She tried to hide it, but he could see how her slender fingers trembled. He caught the hand, then, and she looked up at him in surprise. He turned the hand towards him, where the ring sat on a finger.

"'Spose it's time to figure out of these buggering things work," He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out his ring. He jammed it on his pointer finger, not unlike her. They stared at each other for a moment. "Gotta think something to me," He said.

"Right," She repeated, shaking her head. "Uh…" A look of concentration came over her face as she closed her lips.

 _Do you hear me_? There it was, and he tried not to wince. Really hadn't missed the lack of other voices in his head. Telepathy with the other scoobies had been one thing, but after that, it had been the First Evil, and bloody hell if that wasn't something he didn't need to be reminded of.

 _Clear as a bell,_ he responded, seeing her grimace as his voice came up in her head this time. She rubbed her thumb along the ring as if she wanted to take it off, but refrained.

 _You're going to have to keep your fangs on from here on out,_ he reminded her. He expected another grimace, but instead there was a long, resigned blink and then a nod. If she were still human, she would have taken a breath to steady herself. As it was, she just morphed, bumpy ridges descending over her forehead, obscuring her eyebrows. Golden eyes glinted back at him, and he found he mourned the loss of her blue eyes.

"What about—" She caught herself. _What about you?_

 _Not the one pretending to be a good ol' evil vampire here. Just you._

She nodded. _So just walk to the front door and see how far we get?_

 _That's the plan._ She knew this, but seemed like she needed a bit more reassurance from him. Fine with him. He could understand that. And they were going in with no bloody weapons—not that a vampire was ever entirely without a weapon. Into a vampire den filled with who knew how many. And he doubted they let just about anyone join in, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

"Don't fret, Bloody Mary," Spike said, aloud for her benefit. "Got no fear that you can break us both out of there if the need comes. They're nothing compared to you."

Her mouth tilted upwards in a grateful smile. "I am glad you're here. For the record."

"Knew you would be. Can't fathom why you'd pretend otherwise." He said it lightly, teasing, and she didn't take it too hard. Her hand reached out for him, almost as if to hold his hand, but instead it tightened like a manacle around his arm, to make the appearance of no escape.

He could see her shy a bit, as they neared the crowds. Glanced at the 'I heart vampires' signs with a bit of apprehension, but no-one looked at her twice. Bet that was a change. Every time she neared the Slayers, they couldn't keep her eyes off her. Same went for him, being a vampire and all, they set the little Slayer warning bells off. Most of them had gotten used to the sight of him being around, but far too many of them had ample reminder of the power of that Mandy-bitch Slaypire and it made them a mite anxious. Not so here, as they moved easily through the crowds like they barely existed. At the door it was a bit different. Plenty of vamp-faced vampires waiting hopefully as a tall bouncer-like vampire waited at the entrance, yaying or naying them. No demons, though. Guess they hadn't quite broached the idea of _that_ to the good ol' public eye. Be a bit different, trying to explain the Sisterhood of Jhe or a Fyarl demon to the good ol' Americans. They had no sappy books written about those yet.

He wasn't listening to the conversation before them, where two out of three of a group were allowed in the building, and the third was turned away. The two left him easily, as vampires were ought to do. No loyalty any more. Not like Spike had had with Dru. There were some vampires, members, likely, who moved easily past the bouncer. Spike noticed they headed a different way than the newly accepted did. So did Jade.

"I'm here to see Harmony," Jade announced easily, tugging on Spike more roughly than she had before. He bared his teeth in frustration for the benefit of the bouncer, though truth was that Jade was still being gentle enough on him, holding tight with pressure but not with pain.

"What's your name?" The vampire growled back. He was set in a suit, long hair pulled back into a kempt ponytail. The sod also looked bloody uncomfortable, as if he'd been forced into that getup. Likely for the benefit of the onlookers. His face was vamped, which was intimidating enough to any normal ol' human, but the vampires hadn't been shy about their faces since their coming out. Harmony'd gotten hers photographed, even, as the photographers howled for it like it was a treat, something special to wet their knickers.

"Jade. But she won't recognize the name. I have something she wants."

"She's busy." The vampire grumbled back. "Get in the line with the others." He pointed towards the left door. Jade glanced from it back to the bouncer, hesitating.

 _Don't be afraid to push him right back_. Spike told her.

"I said. I'm here to see Harmony," Jade snarled, her golden eyes glinting viciously. "Either let her know ahead of time or get out my way."

"Oi, or we could just leave," Spike said, keeping his voice a bit more whiny than normal, as if he was the insolent one and not along for the ride.

"Shut up, Spike." Jade snapped back immediately. Spike watched the bouncer turn to him, eyes narrowing with recognition. Alright, so he was a bit of a celebrity among the vampires himself, but for all the wrong reasons. He was sure there were bloody horror tales the vampires told to the newly sired, of what could happen if they got cursed with a soul or some bloody mess.

"Spike?" The vampire echoed.

"Nope, not me. Some other fellow. With dodgier hair." Spike said, wagging one hand as if calling for a truce.

"It's Spike. The real Spike. And I figure that Harmony might be pretty interested in seeing him, so are you going to get out of my way, or not?" Jade curled her lip as convincingly as she could manage, which wasn't all that terrible. With the vamp face she looked a mite more intimidating than her small stature usually allowed. It was those soft blue eyes and full lips that would really throw a fellow off thinking she was a harmless little thing, but not now. He made sure to fully display his wince as she pulled heavily on him, thrusting him closer to the door.

The vampire's eyes flickered between the two of them. "You can go up to see Harmony. I'll call it in."

Jade flashed a true, smug smile from around her thick fangs. "So appreciated," She said in a cooing voice that didn't sound at all like hers.


	67. Chapter 66

**66**

 _You did well, Bloody Mary._ There was Spike's voice in her head again, and the feel of it was still so jarring, strange. His voice, closer than even her ears. Definitely made it hard to focus, knowing he could just pop in whenever he felt like it. At least she had to project which thoughts she wanted to send to him, and not just have them any old thing that flitted through her head. There were far too many, he'd probably call her crazy. But she had to think about so many things. Keeping no more than three seconds eye contact with the vampire at the door at a time, even if she doubted he was really that attuned to the soul thing. It wasn't something every vampire had at their reach. Like hypnotism. Theoretically, every vampire _should_ be able to learn it, but Spike hadn't the gift like Dru did, so he hadn't really offered to teach her on that front. Angel had the same luck, or lack of it, and he much older than Spike, and Dru even. Still, she couldn't take any chances.

They were being led down the elevator, and Jade still gripped Spike's arm tightly, keeping up the appearance that he was there unwillingly. He'd gone derisive and snarky at least, playing the good part. She had to keep up her own half of the bargain. Acting like a vampire. Spike was right when he said she didn't have a clue how. Just because she was one didn't mean a thing, not when she spent the whole time trying to regain her humanity.

 _Let's hope the luck carries,_ Jade answered him back. Glad she didn't have a working heart or her heartbeat would be skyrocketing all over the place. That had been terrifying, and that was just the front door. How long was she supposed to keep up this charade? And what if they just took Spike from her?

They can't, she told herself. Confidence, certainty. They couldn't take him from her because she was too strong. And she'd keep them at bay. She was a vampire, and they bowed to hierarchy. Someone who came in with all the answers. And that's what she'd be. Strong as the mountain, she had nothing to fear.

Plenty to fear, really, but she couldn't let it slow her down.

 _Wasn't sodding luck_. Spike reminded her petulantly, as he snapped irritably at her. "Oi, watch the arm. No need to tear it off!"

"Do you need chains? A gag?" The vampire leading them asked. Not the same as the front door one, he was smaller with shorn orange hair. He was dressed in a slightly rumpled suit, with glasses perched on his face.

"Don't need chains." Jade retorted. "A gag though, I'll consider it." She ran her tongue across her bottom lip as she smirked, finding herself undeniably disgusted when the vampire smiled back. Somehow her voice had grown higher, as she thought of the one vampire to base her attitude on. Mandy the Slaypire, Jade's 'sire'. Jade hated thinking of her as that. Mandy was the one who had killed her, had made her into what she was. Yet that simpering tone fueled how Jade acted here. Confident and invulnerable, looking at the others as if they were less than dirt. That's what she needed to make it here.

They crowded into the elevator, with Jade pushing Spike to the corner. He let out a grunt as he hit the wall, and she found herself startled, hesitant with worry, but even as he swore under his breath, his blue eyes met hers, cerulean and human, and all the comforting they can be.

 _I'm fine, luv. Don't let up._

They rode the rest of the way in silence. With one snappish comment at their guiding vampire, he realised she wasn't interested in smalltalk. She looked straight ahead, and the door opened to an entirely different atmosphere than the rest of the corridors so far. The building had been mostly dark, like a vacated office, although with lack of windows. There were a couple, but not in any great amount. Probably fitted with the sun-proof glass Spike had told her about. But the level the elevator opened up to was just… pink. Completely overhauled, there was fuzzy carpet before them, bright lights and even a strobe light that had unicorns hanging from it.

"What the bloody he—"

Spike's comment, which Jade completely agreed with, was left unfinished, interrupted by a shrill barking. A small animal came into view, something that barely registered as a dog, a little Chihuahua came running down the hall.

"Sir Woofy, come back here!" A high-pitched voice cried out, and then, just after the little dog was the blonde Jade knew was Harmony. Long blonde hair was curled excessively, spanning down one bare shoulder. Pink lip gloss sparkled on her mouth, blush touching pink on her otherwise vampire-pale visage, sparkling pink eyeshadow underneath her eyebrows.

"Oh, you're here already. Woof. Come back here," Harmony said almost nonchalantly as she pointed heatedly at her feet, which were covered with high heels, this time a light purple instead of pink. She let out a happy coo, her attitude immediately changing as her dog behaved, coming to her feet and allowing itself to be picked up and crowded into her arm. "Good Woofy, good boy." She smacked her lips and buried it into the dog's fur. It was all Jade could do not to grimace, but Spike didn't have the same restraint.

"She's off her sodding nut," He mentioned aloud.

With that, Harmony's gaze snapped up from her 'adorable furry poo' and towards the vampires. "And just what are you doing here? Think I'd take you back, again? Well _heads up_ , Mister, I still want nothing to do with you. And if you think you can just come back here and get away with it then—"

"That's very lovely to hear. Seems we came here a bit errantly, and we can just be leaving now—" Jade glanced at him, and he gave her the quickest nod, knowing she was asking for permission before she took his head and slammed him into the wall. He clutched his skull and slid down the wall. Jade knew she hadn't hit him that hard, not as much as she could have, that he was making a show as well as Jade, but she knew it still hurt, even if it was only a little.

Harmony's eyes flickered between them with surprise, her highly kept eyebrows arching up with shock. "What is going on?"

"Spike isn't really here of his own free will," Jade said, twisting her lips up into a smug smile, taking a step towards Harmony. The blonde vampire eyed her a bit more carefully now, free hand still stroking her little dog. "He's, how do I say it? Sort of a present? I got him, you see. Right under the nose of the Slayers, and it made them upset. Wasn't that hard, either."

"Sod off, you bloody bint," Spike did his best to grumble, touching his tender forehead. He appeared angry, and Harmony frowned, confused.

"He's not even like, chained up." The blonde protested. "How did you get him here, then?"

"Don't need chains." Jade said as confidently as she could. "He can't get away."

"Well…" Harmony's lips puckered up, a look of indecision crossing her face. "Well, why then? I certainly don't want him here." She tossed her blonde hair with as much confidence as she could manage.

"See, I bloody told you. She doesn't want me here—" Spike spoke their carefully rehearsed lines, the conflict they had planned from the beginning. So Jade knew what came next, kneeling next to her 'captive', trying to ignore his beautiful blue eyes that were forgiving, compliant, even as he brought his dark brow down into a brave scowl.

"One more word," She warned him as her fingers wrapped around his throat. He let out a strangled noise. Wasn't like she was cutting off his airways, but it didn't mean it wouldn't irk with his speech box a little. "And I'll break all of your fingers. The girls are talking. Don't be rude." She gave his cheek a playful slap, one meant to sound hard rather than feel it, but she could still see a red impact on his pronounced cheek as she stood back up in one graceful, swift measure, turning back to the staring Harmony.

"Is that like, magic?"

"No," Jade said, curling her lip in disgust. Had to think like Pen now. Superior and cold, cold like the ice. "Just strength and speed. Beyond what you've ever seen."

"Well, I don't know about that but I—"

In a blink, Jade was in front of her, gripping her arm and twisting it back as her free hand swooped in and scooped out the little dog. Then she stepped back, next to the wall opposite of Spike, now mockingly stroking the tremoring dog she had in her grasp.

Harmony had let out a cry of pain when her arm had been wrenched back, and now her wide eyes settled on the dog clasped iron-tight in Jade's arms. "Ow!" The blonde vampire yelped. "That was uncalled for. And don't you—" She waggled her pointer finger, trying to bite down the panic and look intimidating. "Don't you hurt Sir Woofy, or I swear I'll—"

"I'm not going to hurt your dog," Jade said, rolling her eyes. "It was a demonstration, that's all. I didn't come here to ruin your unlife, Harmony." She released the little dog, who trotted all too eagerly back to his master. She could hear his heart skyrocketing, and a wave of guilt swarmed through her. She'd threatened a dog no bigger than a puppy. For an animal lover, it was almost as bad as slamming Spike's head against the wall, even if she had always preferred cats.

"Then why did you come?" Harmony asked in a whiny voice while simultaneously trying to comfort 'Sir Woofy'. "Did the bad lady hurt you, well you're with mummy now, and nothing's going to happen to you," She cooed, hugging her dog to her chest.

Jade cleared her throat. "Well, I wanted to join. Seems like you got a nice gig going on here, and you could use some muscle. And probably some brains." She added the last part scathingly. Spike told her the vampires didn't exactly go around complimenting each other all the time, unless of course they were the big boss. But while Harmony was the figurehead, she wasn't the leader type, and so Spike had encouraged this behavior. He did so now, grunting with over exaggerated pain.

 _You're doing well, Super girl. You can do this._

She twisted her fingers instead of turning to give Spike a grateful smile, thumb unconsciously rubbing against the ornate serpent ring on her finger.

"If you wanted to join," Harmony sputtered. "There's a welcome vamps downstairs."

"Yeah, see, I saw that. But I'm not much for the slow climb. I'm not a minion. I'll help, be a partner. But I won't snivel with drivel."

Harmony sniffed impertinently. "What makes you think we need help anyway. This is a perfectly legitimate place. We're just trying to make peace with the humans, and—"

 _Break something_. Spike's calm, guiding voice in her head as Jade looked for the nearest thing to smash, seeing a pink cabinet along the wall where they were standing. She reached over to it and brought her hand through it. No holding back, just pure, Slaypire strength, and it burst. Splinters flying everywhere as the thing collapsed, a hole punched clean through it. Instinctually, Jade stepped back in front of Spike, easily sweeping the splinters away from any vital places—hearts in specifics, as Harmony's mouth opened in shock, and she hugged her dog tightly to her, letting out a sad wail as pieces of wood attached themselves to her hair, although none so large or so fast that she was in any danger.

"That was _expensive_!" Harmony shrieked angrily.

"Not sturdy enough," Jade said nonchalantly, hearing Spike stifle a chuckle. Jade had to keep the corner of her mouth from tilting up too, finding Spike's laughter contagious now as it always was. But she had to keep a straight face.

"Now look here, I don't know what you think—"

"I'm here to see the big man in charge." Jade enunciated clearly. "Or men. Or women. Whatever. But I know there's more going on. You can try to convince your little gathering that yeah, you really are embracing peace and love with the humans, but I know better. And frankly, I want in. Brought Spike as a little present for a show of goodwill."

"Well it's just Spike, I don't see how—"

"One of the two souled vampires in the entire universe." Jade interrupted. "And he's been defying our kind for quite a while. You think he wouldn't be willing to step in front of a camera, turn your little operation upside down by claiming the whole thing's a hoax?"

Harmony wrinkled her nose. "Well they wouldn't."

"Why not? I mean, look at that face. He's definitely camera-worthy." Jade shrugged to Spike, and Harmony's eyes followed, a moronic grin on her as she nodded.

"Well, yeah, a little, I mean—no," The blonde shook her head violently. "So you thought you'd just come and drop Blondie be—Spike at our doorstep and get a free pass?"

"Not exactly. See the thing is, he's grown on me a little." Jade stepped back to Spike, seeing a bit of swelling around the eye that that had smacked against the wall. "I'm not wanting to drop him into your clutches where you might disfigure him or torture him beyond sexiness, but I'm willing to share." She knelt in front of Spike, putting a mocking smirk on her face as she looked at him, strictly for Harmony's benefit. "Isn't that nice of me?"

"Go to hell," Spike growled, defiant. Jade shrugged, rising back up to her feet.

"Do you know that I got him right from under Buffy?" She tried to put arrogance in her tone, a cocky boast, even if the exact opposite of her words were true, and it hung like a stone in her heart. "Yeah. Thought they'd try a go at a long happy life or whatever, but that's not going to happen, is it? As it is, maybe it'll make the Slayers a bit more civil towards you all. Those bad slayers. Trying to sully your name and all." Jade let out a pout, followed by a toothy grin.

"Well," Harmony skewed her lips, obviously thinking.

"Try not to hurt your noggin, honey," Jade said caustically, earning another frown from the blonde.

"Look, I'm not saying you get a free back pass. You don't get to just shoulder your way in. There _are_ rules here, and we don't need anybody coming in and messing it all up," Harmony sniffed. "But I mean, it'd be nice having another woman around here. And not that I _need_ him around, own woman, after all, we might be able to use Spike."

"Under my supervision," Jade responded immediately. "As I said, I'm not done with him yet."

A frown crossed Harmony's features, and Jade could hear Spike's warning in her head. _Careful, luv_.

"But I'll share. As long as I don't get cheated out of all the wonderful torture I've thought of," Jade added hastily, pouting as she picked at a left over piece of the cabinet.

"What, did he dump you too?" Harmony asked blatantly, and Jade froze, feeling stiff, but then she could see Harmony wasn't mocking, more reaching out for some girl talk and Spike hating, and Jade relaxed.

"No. I've just gotten attached to him. He's a fine thing to look at. Shame about that pesky soul and all."

"Ugh, well, let me tell you, he was no knight in shining armor when he didn't have it," Harmony rolled her eyes. "All Dorkus this and Dorkus that, and then 'oh my god I want to kill the Slayer I can't even think of anything else'."

"Sounds like fun pillowtalk," Jade responded sardonically, pretending to be superior.

"Yes, well. It wasn't. He was awful. Even after he got his soul back and stopped being a ghost it took him like five seconds before he wanted to jump me."

"Yes well, can't all have the best tastes." Jade said dryly, trying not to cringe.

"Yeah, exactly. Wait. Hey," Harmony protested as she processed the Slaypire's words. "That's rude."

Jade shook her hand in dismissal. "I want to meet the ones in charge." She reminded the blonde vampire.

Harmony tossed her hair. "You've met me."

Jade narrowed her eyes a fraction. "The rest of them."

Harmony sighed. "Okay, okay. Like this is not how we normally do things. You're awfully pushy. I'll talk to them."

"Well, I'm not a minion. Got to get used to some pushing," Jade shrugged.

"Hey, I am a strong woman, and I've gotten pushed around _plenty_ of times, okay, I know. Wait, that's not what I meant—"

"The others," Jade cut in, trying to sound decidedly bored.

"After. I have a party to go to, you know. Which I'm almost late for, and now I have to redo my hair because you put wood all over it, and maybe I _should_ have gone with the dark pink dress instead of this light one."

"Let me give you a hint," Spike drawled. "There's only so much a dress can do you for your barmy self. Hard to dress up that much crazy."

"Oh, and you'd know crazy," Harmony shot back. "How's Dorkus?"

"Enough." Jade interrupted. "I'm not waiting in the dank basement while you go off on the party."

"Well. We have some guest quarters. I'm not letting you stay here. You'd break something." Harmony pouted as she eyed her destroyed cabinet. "Although we do have a cell if you want some place to put Spike," She said, brightening at the idea immensely.

"He stays with me," Jade inserted firmly. "He has a Houdini streak. Even if he can't get far," She added the last part haughtily.

"Fine. Well, Harland," Harmony called out the vamp who had escorted them, a unimposing figure that Jade had forgotten about before now. "Take them to the guest quarters. The nice ones. Not the really tacky ones on the Seventeenth floor."

"So the uh…"

"The Twentieth floor, you moron," Harmony snapped. "Do you not have a single sense of style? Of course those are the pretty ones." The vampire nodded numbly back at her, apologizing, and Harmony rolled her eyes in full aggravated fashion. "You go with Harland, and we'll see you before too long."

Jade took a step towards her, and she could see Harmony stiffen, turning to stone. The thought caused Jade to smirk, and she didn't bother hiding it. Was nice, not holding back for once, even she hated the way she sounded and acted. Somehow it was easier with her vamp face on to act like someone she was, to act worse. "I don't like being kept waiting," Jade warned. "And I don't like traps."

"There are just—just ways we do things," Harmony implored her. "I have to talk to the others and then, then, we'll come to you. Promise." She held her fingers up and kissed them in some sort of gesture that maybe worked on her fans.

"Fine. Let's go, Spike." The platinum haired vampire grumbled as he leaned against the wall to raise himself up.

"Harmony, come on. You worked for the good guys once," Spike started. "Bloody well do it again. Don't leave me with her."

"I'm over your charms, Spike!" Harmony exclaimed. "I am so over you. I've got celebrities wanting to date me now. Real ones. Actual guitar players in actual bands, and better than your stupid Sex Pistols."

"Oi, you take that right back," Spike snapped back indignantly.

"Not now," Jade snarled, stepping forward and gripping Spike tightly. He didn't struggle against her grip as they stepped back towards the elevator.

"I'll see you later," Harmony called over to them cheerily.

"Count on it." Jade promised as the doors closed for them, and a still-nervous Harland became their guide once more. He hadn't quite escaped the cabinet's explosive exit, and a bloody wooden splinter dropped onto the elevator's floor. They started moving again and Jade released Spike, trying to act perfectly natural—or perfectly unnatural in her case, like she had nothing to worry about. But she didn't trust anyone here, and the whole loyalty for vampires seemed to her barely existent. Seemed to last for as long as it benefited both parties. Or for as long as the underling thought they'd suffer worse if they disobeyed. There was a chime as they arrived at the next floor. Like for Harmony's floor, a key was used to open the door to the next floor. It was on a whole set of keys that Harland sorted through, which Jade noticed. Still, they probably didn't need the keys to leave, since she was sure she could force her way out of any window, no matter how thick they were. And for the fall, well that didn't concern her.

Spike had taught her she could fly, after all.

But what did matter is if they were trying to sneak around to different floors, to get a look of the layout or something in particular. So she noted where Harland put the keys back in his pocket. And noted that each key used so far was marked with the number corresponding to their floor. That made it simpler. Probably the only way they could deal with that many keys. Becoming undead certainly didn't help with intelligence. In most cases, probably made it worse. But Mandy had thought she was so smart now, above the world, didn't she?

Hadn't quite worked out for her.

"This is your floor," Harland said, his tone only a little shaky. They stepped out into the floor. It was different than Harmony's. Instead of being like a flat as soon as they walked onto the space, there were more corridors, spread out into different rooms. Harland led them to a particular one, which looked like it had been decorated by Harmony again, as Jade spied an array of pink shades. But it would do. The floor look like it split off into quarters, and the rooms they were led to were spacious. So far, Jade couldn't hear anything else. Seemed they were alone.

"It's not l-locked," Harland told them. "But you have the whole floor to yourself."

"And I suppose I can't leave it without help," Jade said flatly, not surprised by the nodding of the vampire's head.

"You'll have to w-wait here. Would you like me to bring you some blood?"

Jade tried to keep her stomach from clenching. "Is it fresh?" She tried to appear bored, her eyes half-lidded. If she still had a heartbeat, it'd be an obvious tell.

But Harland was shaking his head regretfully. "It's not allowed. Not here. Harmony would h-have our hides."

"Then I'll pass," Jade responded icily, relief crawling through her. "I'll manage for now."

"I want some chicken wings," Spike added insolently. "That on the menu?"

"No," Jade shot back. "No food for him either," she added before Harland could ask.

"Do you need chains now?" Harland asked. "To keep him in line?"

"As I said. Not necessary. If that's all, then you can go on your way. Remind Harmony that I'm not patient," Jade said as dismissively and as confidently as she could manage.

"Yes, Mistress." Harland dipped his head and turned to leave.

Mistress. The word disgusted her, somehow, twisted up her stomach. That the vampire was calling her that, like she was in charge and had any inkling of authority. She hated it.

Even if it meant she was doing well.


	68. Chapter 67

**67**

They'd been alone for a few minutes, since that simpering prat Harland had stumbled his way back down to the elevator, those keys rattling 'bout in his pocket. Spike's tolerance for his own kind—and patience—had dwindled long ago, but now he felt sorry for the bastards. Always trapped in servitude to some wanker or another, without a bit of free will to call their own. What a bloody pathetic existence.

They'd looked through the room, which was a large bedroom—and a telly, he noted with some satisfaction, as well as a bathroom. Nothing else secret or just plain giving it away. No hidden doors to some demonic shrine. All he'd seen of the headquarters so far looked clean as a whistle.

Didn't bode well. Not a single person stumbling around with blood running from their neck, nearly as pale as the vampires who wanted to feed. No, barely anything really. Squeaky clean. Meant someone smart was running from the behind, and they needed to find out who it was. They'd done what they could so far, getting to Harmony. Now, to play the waiting game.

Jade collapsed on the middle of the bed, her brow crinkling at the obvious fluffiness of the sheets, and the way she sank into the bed like she was being swallowed up by the earth. More cautiously, she wiggled her way back to the edge, where there was more of a frame to support her. She'd done well. He was mighty bloody proud. Hadn't shied away from hitting him, either. Which hurt. His noggin was still crying out for mercy, and it was giving him one hell of a headache. But it was all part of the show, and she could have hurt him much worse. She was holding back too, which left it to him to make him seem like he was really in the throes of agony.

He collapsed on a loveseat, and their eyes met. She sucked in a breath she didn't need and opened her mouth to speak.

 _Better not, luv,_ he cautioned her, raising his hand. _Don't know if they got the place bugged._

She let out a slow nod, then looked slightly amused as she glanced around carefully. _Didn't know your kind was that great with technology_ , she mused. Still slipping up, he noticed. _His_ kind, as if she wasn't a vampire. Still, it was a new notion for her to get used to. Four months was nearly insignificant in the life of a vampire. And as for his kind, he'd actually acted like a vampire for over a century. She'd done her best to stay human. Hadn't even been around this many vampires since she'd turned, except for the ones she'd ordered to death with the belt of Hippos or whatever it had been. That had been a rare moment for Jade where she'd seemed to have no compassion for the vampires she'd ordered to kill themselves. Had never been quite that coldblooded towards vampires before. But Spike knew she'd had the interests of the living Slayers in her head at the time. That made her decision for her.

' _Spose they have to learn eventually,_ Spike mourned the old fashion stuff. Suited him better. All this new fangled technology and the rate at which they bloody invented it was a bit much for the old vampire to keep up with. Hell, he'd barely began to accept cell phones.

 _Not so much with the chains and jail cells then, huh?_

 _Don't be smug. You'll be just as bad one day,_ He forewarned her, sounding a bit stiff as he thought it. Ugh, sounded like the stuffy watcher, he almost did. Trying to stick to his old guns instead of adapt to the new world.

She was silent then. He noticed her vampire visage had slipped almost as soon as they were alone, leaving her with her youthful look. Even for twenty one, she'd be able to pass for younger, being so small of stature, and those large, vulnerable blue eyes. Definitely gave her a different look now, too human, but he didn't have the heart to tell her to put her guise up when no-one was watching. And he could see her eyes flitting about the room, looking for something hidden, a camera likely. She had a better idea what to look for, due to her sodding love of technology, so if she didn't find anything out of the sort, he'd let it be. Did make her seem like a different person with her eyes blue instead of golden, the permanent vampire scowl missing from her softer face as she perused with curiousity.

 _Should say something aloud. In case they are listening._ He reminded her, and her attention snapped back to him, fingers curling through her hair. Not so much on her game now, she seemed a bit tired, as if her performance had taken too much out of her. Couldn't blame her for that. She done well, acting completely against her character. Now all she wanted was a reprieve, but they couldn't let up. Had to play the game, even when it was likely no-one was paying attention.

 _Like what_? She asked back, still having that dazed look on her face. He took pity on her. Wouldn't do much now if he berated her for not thinking on her feet. She didn't do as well with insults and mockery, she thrived with encouragement. Not exactly Spike's way of doing things, but hell, even an old vampire had to learn to adapt.

"Realise how much of a bloody rot idea this was yet?" He said insolently, loudly, watching her slightly flinch, used to the silence they had acclimatized over the last minutes.

"I didn't ask your opinion," She responded, just as haughtily. "Are you worried they're going to crucify you?"

"Bet you'd miss that. Been bloody attached to me at the hip since—"

"Mhm, well you'd try to run away otherwise," She said with a sultry pout that didn't reach her eyes, putting on a show for the cameras she hadn't yet found, but didn't mean they weren't still hiding somewhere. "Maybe that gag idea didn't go remiss." And that was how he found Jade walking towards him with the sheets in hand, tying his wrists together first, her cold touch lingering on his skin even as she worked efficiently, and he managed one more humph before another piece of the sheet was ripped and tied over his mouth. Not tight enough, and he should have chided her for it, although the pressure at his wrists were strong enough.

"Keep you quiet for a while," Jade said, leaning in front of him. "Don't muss up your binds, or I'll get angry." Was it wrong that he felt, well. Attracted to it? The self-confidence, the strength behind her movements. He'd always had a fatal attraction to strong women. How well that had gone for him, but he couldn't help it. Dru used to love games like this, and it was this part that he hadn't minded. The talking his ear off about the moon and stars, yeah, that'd tend to get to a fellow. But this part, well, appealed to his inner demon it did. Wouldn't tell Jade, whose focused, intense gaze had shifted back to hesitation, and he felt her voice in his head. _Is that good enough for now?_

 _That'll do, luv._ He assured her. Had to get his head on a bit more straight anyway, not look at the way she had half draped herself towards him to tie the binds, her chopped hair slipping past her ears to frame her face, the genuine strength and power between each careful tie. Bloody hell.

She seemed relieved as she retreated back towards the bed, leaving him there in the chair. Her eyes sought out his again, but then tore her gaze away to flit back around the room.

 _No need to be so anxious,_ He told her. Could see it in the way her eyes never stopped moving, the little shudders he had seen in her whenever she was acting all tough in front of Harmony.

She let out a sigh she didn't need, blue eyes turning back to his. _Is it that obvious?_ She looked sincerely worried, as if concerned her acting hadn't held up in front of the class.

 _Only to me_ , he reassured her but it didn't relieve the wrinkles in her brow, the small frown.

 _Are you sure? I think I slipped once in front of Harmony, and I might have forgotten the three second rule when I was—_

 _I'm sure,_ he interrupted her. _Like Harmony could tell a vamp had a soul if they whomped her in the sodding face with it._ He'd been the one that reminded Willow about certain vampires' senses. The older ones, usually. Harder to get something like that past them. Not so much Spike. He prided himself on his observational skills, but when he was trapped in a sub with Angel back during war times, had he picked up on the fact that the Poof had gotten himself a soul? No, not quite. Didn't help that the wanker acted every bit the git he always did. Made Spike swim back to shore too, the bloody sod.

 _And now we wait,_ Jade replied, her apprehension clear. Sometimes she was so bloody good at tying up her emotions and keeping them from the surface, and other times she was obvious as an open book.

' _Least they let us in, Super girl._

 _It could be a trap—_

 _It won't be. Not this soon. Harm's gotta report to her superiors, and they'll come. Curiousity'll draw them in like moths to a sodding flame. No vamp likes a big wig who struts around like they own the sodding place, but they'll still bow to one. Can't 'elp themselves. This isn't a community built on trust falls and group hugs. You make an impression, they won't be able to turn you away._

 _But if I can't—_

 _You're stronger and faster than any one of them, Bloody Mary. Hard to look that bloody gift horse in the eye. You're doing fine. 'S time to congratulate yourself, not dread it all._

Jade nodded, slowly accepting his words. She ran her fingers through her hair, momentarily hiding her face from view before she looked back up at him through her fingers. _Don't supposed you brought any playing cards with you._

 _Probably not best, even if I did,_ he responded, but she was nodding. It was a benign request, that was all. A bit of her playfulness, coming out in an attempt to comfort. _'Sides, you get sullen when you lose_ , he couldn't resist adding.

Her eyes shone with an indignant spark, but it was all in good fun, and he could see those lips of hers twisting into a smile.

As the hours went on, she smiled less and less, her hands gripping her arms, then her hair, and then in a fit that was part anxiety, and part a display of her strength should anyone peek in, she smashed the boudoir in the room, her fist melting through it like butter. It was a side he didn't get to see often, her just letting go and destroying something. She was quite good at it, if she let herself go, trouble was the broad wound herself up so tightly, 'fraid of what happened when she lost her control. And here she was, dabbling with the rest of her kind, and he was only slightly unnerved by how good she was at it, when it called for it. Ran circles 'round Harmony, didn't let herself get intimidated by the blonde vampire. Although Harmony was many things, Spike'd never call her particularly threatening. Stupid, shallow and pathetic, yes, but not someone that gave him the goosebumps and frightened him right down to his skivvies.

She'd gone back to lounging on the bed, trying to keep herself natural and relaxed, and so was he, tilting his bed back in the chair and his eyes half-closed. She might not be able to get some kip for appearances sake, but he could. And maybe if he acted relaxed, she'd learn not to hold herself so tight. Couldn't act so tense, not here, like she was waiting for a fight, even if it were more likely than not.

 _Does he always have to sit like that?_ It came from a mumble, like an echo of a thought, and not one she had actually meant to send. _Doesn't he realise how his shirt goes taut over his chest and can see just about every little curve. You'd think he wouldn't be able to sit so provocative with his wrists tied but what the hell he managed anyway._

He couldn't hold back his chuckle, and he was far from the gentleman who could keep a straight face, although he might not have said anything either if it hadn't been such innocent, comical mumbling that made him choke like bloody hell on his laughter. And he was rewarded by the look he gleaned when he opened his eyes, the absolute horror dredging over her pale face, as the realisation and the embarrassment set in. And he of course, couldn't help but look smug, revelling in the way her jaw had dropped, and she was absolutely speechless.

 _Goes taut over my chest, does it_ , he couldn't help but tease, remembering in time to speak in their heads, though he accompanied his words with every bit the smarmy grin he could conjure behind the pressure of the gag.

"You—you—" She gaped like a fish out of water, then clamped her jaw firmly tight, like a steel trap snapping shut.

 _Go on, I could stand to hear a bit more,_ Spike loved it, the way she was getting so flabberghasted. Forget for the moment they were in the lion's den, belly of the beast or whatever the bloody hell they wanted to call it, Jade was so fuddled she could barely think, let alone speak.

 _I wasn't thinking that to you!_ She snapped back irritably, her hand perching around her ringed finger as if she was tempted to rip it off.

 _But you were thinking_ about _me,_ Spike pointed out, all too smug. _How_ would _you like me to sit. I could face the wall if you like._

 _Spike_. The thought was threatening and sharp as steel, her dismay taken over by curdling anger. Her eyes burnt so bright, rife with fury, but her being miffed was anything but frightening. It was bloody amusing, it was.

 _You know, I think you're managing a blush._

"Knock it off!" She snapped, exasperated. "I don't care," She said, as he plaintively raised his eyebrows, gently warning her. But despite her declaration, her next words were back in his head, jarring and discordant. _Not one. More. Word._

 _Yes ma'am,_ He responded churlishly, wanting to continue the torture for quite a bit longer, but he took pity on her, and her clearly frustrated expression. Bit sensitive, that one.

The moment there was a sound, the clink-clink-clink of the moving elevator, Jade was on her feet, so fast Spike's vampire eyes could barely keep up with her. As fast as a breath, she had turned towards the door, and then back towards where she had been sitting, clearly construed with nervous energy.

 _Play it cool,_ he told her, even wrestling out an eye roll from her.

 _Easy for you to say_ , she thought back bitterly, and he couldn't help but smirk as he leaned back into his chair. He was a bit stiff now, kept in his binds for the amount of time, and the sheets were beginning to pinch at his jaw.

 _Yeah, a bit_ , he admitted confidently. Jade turned towards him, and he felt his stomach clench a bit when she ripped the binds off of his wrists, freeing him. Her fingers grazed his cheek, debating whether she wanted to remove the gag as well, then thought better of it, her icy, butterfly touch disappearing as she straightened back up.

 _Face_ , he reminded her as the sounds increased. A look of gratitude and chagrin flavored her expression at the same time, and then it changed. Hard ridges set in, something Jade had once mournfully related it to something she called 'Klingon Forehead'. And eyes, yellow and somehow colder were there in its place.

There was only one set of footsteps. He knew Jade had deduced the same thing, her eyes never moving from the door as the knob turned, revealing the same lummox from earlier, Harland, still stuffed into that suit that barely fit him, looking like a prat.

"About time," Jade sniffed irritably, her fangs showing in an unpleasant smile as the tremoring vampire looked up at her apologetically.

"My apologies, mistress, but the—"

"I'm to see them now?" Realising she'd posed it a bit too much like a question, she immediately scowled, a deep growl in her throat, "Where are they?"

"T-this way." The vampire stuttered. Jade threw her chin over in Spike's direction, her brow furrowed but her eyes soft.

"Do I need to drag you or are you going to walk on your own?"

Spike growled a bit in response for good measure, but rose to his full height, striding over to her, far from contrite, but obedient at least. Harland's weasel eyes flickered between the two of them, but there was no suspicion in his gaze. More like relief that he wasn't the point of Jade's anger, where Spike was. Spike hid a smirk. If only he knew. They followed the vampire back into the elevator, Jade's eyes trained once more on the keys the vamp shook. This time they rose to the 66th floor. The highest floor, of course. Had to be a 66, and if there wasn't a 6 on the door up there somewhere, for the sake of buggering symbolism. Made it a might hard for Spike not to roll his eyes. Sometimes too much tradition was a mighty boring thing, along with cheesy.

He saw the way Harland glanced at Jade, clearly intimidated by her presence but drawn to her as well. Normally, Spike wouldn't blame a bloke. He was all too drawn to power himself. But seeing it was Jade that the vamp was staring at, whether she saw it or not, her eyes drawn to the lights on the board as they ascended each floor, Spike had to barely contain a growl to tell the vamp to back off. As it was, his face was still restrained by the tight binding that acted as a gag, and he doubted he could manage anything more than an unimpressive pout. Still, he didn't much care for it.

 _Think that git's getting a bit too sure of himself. Frighten him a bit, put him back in his place_. It was an innocent request—just part of the mission, was all, but he couldn't quite contain his grin when Jade moved in a blink, shoving Harland away to the other side of the elevator, despite him not moving since stepping in—his eyes were just plain roamy enough—and the vampire let out a pained groan.

"Did I say you could stare?" Jade snapped. "Like you even deserve to look upon me." A bit over-the-top, but most vampires were, weren't they? Cruel to their minions and Gods in their own eyes, it was just enough to get the vampire quivering again, likely wishing he was anywhere but there. His admiring stare turned to visible fear again. Good. That's what she needed, the fear. Not admiration, not among these lugs.

 _Good_ , he praised her, just a tad smug about it himself.

A ding cut through the silence that ensued. Jutting a key that looked considerably older and more complicated than the other more generic keys that hung on the chain, Harland was all too quick to jam the key in and open the door. Jade let him step first, but she was quick to be behind, although this time, she did reach out and grab Spike's arm, pulling him along with her. Whether it was for appearances or for reassurance, he wasn't quite sure, but her grip was gentle, despite being firm and damn near impossible to break out of if he could even try. This floor was a bit back to the normal atmosphere he'd expect of vampires. Gaudy decorating, crypt-like—though not as masterfully decorated as Spike's had been—and candles dripping from just about everywhere. Made it a bit dark, but his eyes adjusted well enough.

"T-this way," Harland audibled unnecessarily, seeing as there was only one corridor—Spike could have led the charge just fine himself, instead of being pulled along for the ride, having his shoulder occasionally brush Jade's as she unconsciously leaned into him. Should have told her to hustle up a bit, pull him along a bit rougher, but he didn't have the heart to remind her. Sure she was nervous enough as they approached a large door at the end of the hallway.

A big, blatant 6 right in the middle of it. Big bloody surprise right there. Spike could have and did roll his eyes as Harland timidly knocked on it.

"Come in!" One highly obvious and high pitched tone sounded. Harmony. He'd never quite gotten over his annoyance of her, although it was true she'd been useful from time to time. Mostly to fill an empty bed and not much else, although he'd begun to tolerate her during the stint at Wolfram & Hart. But only barely. Then there was the time during shagging that she'd just reached out and sunk her fangs into his throat and started bleeding blood. That'd been a bit of a turn off, to say the least. But he'd only turned to Harmony since he'd felt well, bloody well lost. He'd died, not for the first time, been a ghost, been turned to a bloody real boy again and well, hadn't had much faith in the Buffy wanting anything to do with him even after he'd saved the world, so he'd fallen prey to lust and wanting to not feel so bloody alone for one second and taken to Harmony again. That'd been a mistake, and one that only happened once, but it still made him feel guilty. Said he loved Buffy, but turned round and did that. Couldn't blame a bloke who'd gotten rejected by the Slayer as many times as he had, but Spike could still feel disgusted with himself for it.

Plus, he'd also done it just to throw it in Angel's face. Fun at the time, not so brilliant after. Now that he got after-sex guilt with the soul in tow. Bit shaming, it was.

The room didn't change the décor much. Still dark, candles flickering more to just annoy than to light a single bloody thing, and the first thing he saw was Harmony. Her hair was re-foofed, lipstick a bit faded and makeup smeared. Recently back from her party again. How anyone could elevate her to a celebrity was bloody beyond Spike, but he supposed stupid little humans did it all the time. Hell, Harmony was a carbon undead copy of that bimbo Paris Hilton, who Spike only knew who he was because Harmony would fawn over magazines of the bint back when they were together. Pretty much the same being, really, except one was dead and one was still breathing. But both were just a bit braindead. And he could see how somehow, someone as idiotic as Harmony had begun twisting a nation around her manicured family.

People loved drama. Loved seeing someone make mistakes, someone in the spotlight that was apt to mess up. And they loved supernatural things too, ate it up like it was some special movie treat. Bloody stupid.

But Harmony wasn't the only one in the room. Two more lingering, and not with the same quivering presence of Harland. One, dressed not unlike Gunn, in a fancy suit like he saw himself as a lawyer—although it fit better than the other vampires he had seen who had shrugged themselves into one. He had dark skin, due to his race before turning, although he still retained that sallow vampire touch. His hair was short, nearly bald, though he was tall, broad shouldered, like he fancied himself some well-dressed basketball player. And he kept his human visage, which was interesting, nearly black eyes surveying them, a smarmy look on his face like a permanent smirk. Spike could tell he'd be all too eager to wipe that off the vamp's face after too long of looking. He seemed young, mid twenties, although age meant diddly squat to a vampire. Could have been around for hundreds of years. Spike didn't know. He didn't recognize the git, but human face or not, there was a distinct lack of any beating hearts, and the dark look in his eyes was just plain demonic.

The last one, of the triad or whatever loony name they probably concocted for themselves, he was pure old vampire. Enough centuries on him to have a red, mottled face, likely a vamp face that didn't know how to quit. He wasn't bald like the master had been, old sod, but he had thick gray hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Be a might frustrating, to be turned at sixty or something and have to keep that for the ages. And that's how he seemed, though it was hard to tell. Long nails like claws came out of his fingers, which he had wrapped in front of the grotesque robe he was clothed in. Well, he certainly wasn't conforming to the well-oiled prat look the rest of the flock had adapted.

"So this is the newcomer you spoke of," Warbled a husky tone, old and grating to Spike's ears. The old sod's voice as he turned pale yellow eyes toward them. Didn't even note Spike, but centered on Jade. Jade, who was doing her best not to flinch, standing as straight as she possibly could, despite the fact that the old man and the human-faced one far towered over her.

"I'm not thus impressed," The old vampire continued. "How mediocre a specimen."


	69. Chapter 68

**68**

 _Don't stare_ , were Spike's words in her head, like a whisper. Well, it was hard not to. At risk of sounding shallow, the vampire was ugly. She barely glanced over the other one, who was tall and admittedly handsome, with dark skin and even darker eyes. He seemed cocky and unbothered, and though his persona didn't seem all that dissimilar to the one Spike normally projected, something about him made her instantly uneasy, like he was a cheap copy of Spike, and not comparable in the least.

The older vampire, however, it made her cringe. _Is that what I'm going to look like in centuries come?_ She couldn't help but wonder to herself, seeing the way his skin cracked and shifted around an unchanging mold. Eyes were a strange gold, more a pale yellow, and veins showed up all over his skin, blue over chalky, pasty skin. His fangs gleamed out, vicious and intimidating in a way she certainly felt like she was lacking. His fingers were long, too long, barely any resemblance to human ones, they reminded her of that of a bat, they way they grew out so long, thinner, and the small flaps of skin she could see stretched between the fingers. The fingers, if she could call them that, tapered to slim but deadly looking talons. She suppressed a shudder, remembering the books Penelope had drilled her on. The older vampires lived—unlived, the more they lost contact with humanity. One vampire had cloven hooves after centuries upon centuries, another had ears that resembled a Vulcan's. She'd never met one face to face before—thank God for that, and she found it hard to take. She seemed small now, surrounded by vampires who were definitely older than her, who'd embraced their society since their souls first fled their bodies, and here she was, a pretender. She couldn't risk freezing, but she was, looking into his eyes, compelling and dangerous.

Could she be thralled? It wasn't a risk she'd been warned about. She wasn't human, after all. Vampires couldn't thrall other vampires, she was pretty sure. So all it came down to was fear.

 _Steady, luv_. And there was Spike, in her head. How comforting the sound was, and to think she had loathed the idea of allowing him a spot inside her mind, fearing what he'd hear from her. Thinking she'd hate to hear him so close. But he steadied her, bringing her back to the surface. She wasn't a shivering little minion waiting for her orders to be received. She was no Harland, who had fallen to a new shade of pale after Jade had shoved him around in the elevator. Hey, it had been Spike's suggestion. And reduced him to a tremoring, muttering thing.

Well, that wasn't her.

They were all older than her, that was definite. But she was stronger. And she wouldn't be intimidating.

"Stole the words right from my mouth," She retorted smartly. She released Spike, giving him a little shove. He growled through the gag, but made no move to remove it, even with his hands untied. Giving her her moment, then, before he'd continue with the insolent act. She had to use her time, then.

" _You're_ supposed to be the Wizards behind the curtain?" Jade continued incredulously, "What a joke. No wonder the vampire society is suddenly preaching love and peace."

"Hey," Harmony protested. "We're not a joke. I have a fan following, okay."

"If you've been fooled by that," the dark skinned vampire commented in a deep, husky tone that dripped control and provocation, "Then perhaps we've done our job, haven't we?"

"If it fooled me," Jade growled back. "I wouldn't be here, now would I?" She felt trapped in as the three vampires looked at each other. Relax, she told herself. She was only screwed if she dropped the façade. She wasn't scared. Didn't know the meaning of the word. Strong as the mountain. "I suppose you have names, don't you?" Kept her voice strong, even. Demanding, a little, instead of asking for permission.

"Elijah," the darker vampire murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips twisted into a smirk. "And our elder friend here is Kern."

"Dark One," Kern growled in disapproval, and Elijah shrugged his shoulders in one slow, leisure motion, nonchalantly ignoring the fierce closeness of his shrivelled companion. Cool, collected, he seemed unbothered by anything, but his eyes wouldn't leave her, and they hinted secrets. She had to tear her eyes away, a stiffness in her stomach when she just remembered the three second rule. Even if it was more likely Kern she had to worry about, she couldn't take chances, her eyes flitting back to Harmony instead, who was pouting as she wrapped a blonde curl around her finger and inspected her nails.

"More like the batty one," Spike grumbled. He'd raised his fingers to his gag and peeled it from his lips. A tint of red remained around his pale skin from where it had rubbed against his jaw.

"And why do you bring this pretender to our doors?" Kern rasped, beady eyes narrowing further, the wisps of his eyebrows shaking as he furrowed his already wrinkled brow.

"He's my pet," Jade snapped her lips, trying to sound irritable, trying to ease the tension she felt wash through her body. "Champion of the Slayers, if you haven't kept yourself up to date. Favorite of Buffy. And he might be useful." She reached for him then, her fingers gracing the cool curve of his cheek. For his part, he flinched, shooting a murderous glance at her that she knew not to take personally.

"For a pet," Elijah said thoughtfully, "I don't see a leash."

"I don't need one."

There was a rasping sound that sounded like a ... laugh? Or a gravelly heave, it was hard to tell. It came from the Dark one, who was looking at her with those strange yellow eyes, inherently paler than most vampire eyes she had ever seen. "So sure of herself, for one so young."

"I'm not as young as you think," Jade denied.

"Gentle then, wanting to keep her pet from the swaying of chains."

"I don't need them." Jade repeated, scowling. She could see the disinterested expression on Elijah, his eyebrow raised in a leery position, slow to believe. She felt her stomach contract. Had to do something or Spike was going to be trussed up like a present real quick to protect her reputation.

"Spike." Jade turned to him. "If you make it to the elevator, you can leave."

His eyes widened and then narrowed, first in disbelief then suspicion. "Bugger off," He snarled.

"I'll give you a head start. If you can beat me to the elevator, you can leave."

"Hey, now," Harmony spoke up. "Like, he's totally seen the back—"

Jade raised a finger, and to her surprise, Harmony actually went quiet, but Jade had a suspicion it was also due to the silencing look Elijah had shot at her.

"Load of bollocks, and you know it," Spike was still acting, though desperately, his eyes flitting between the vampires around him.

 _Just a demonstration_ , she promised him. _Pretend like I've done this before._

 _I've got your back, luv_. Came his reply, calmer and more relaxed than his outward persona. His handsome face twisted to a scowl, mouth downturned. "And you're going to drag me back by my baby toe, are you?"

"Not if you beat me."

"Not a bloody chance of that," He cursed. "'Bit lacking in the keys department."

"Here." Jade reached towards Harland, who quivered at her nearness, not putting up a fight as she reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys before he could even blink. She tossed the keys to Spike, who caught them easily, blinking warily.

"Go ahead. I'll give you thirty seconds," Jade said, reaching out to a Harmony who didn't react quickly enough, glancing at the 'bedangled' watch on the blonde vampire's wrist.

"You can't just give him the—" Harmony sputtered.

"Starting now," Jade warned him. Blue eyes burned through hers as he gaze back at her, hiding the trust that resonated in his body, and off he sprinted, like a desperate man.

"I swear to like the Hell and stuff that if he gets away with those keys," Harmony warned, her eyes wide and aghast. Kern growled, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Jade.

"So arrogant," the Dark one rasped.

"Arrogant, but all the reason to be," Jade promised with a glare of her own. "Twenty seconds." The sound of a door closing and opening.

"Magic?" Elijah asked curiously in that even tone of his, the least upset one of the group, looking more amused than anything else, his dark eyes snapping around the room.

"Just strength."

"Ugh," Harmony snapped, stamping her foot. Yep, actually stamping her foot, a glittered up pink high heel that displayed equally glittering toes. "He's going to get away."

"Did I say thirty seconds or thirty five?" Jade pretended to ponder, as she knew the ticks counted down.

"Are you serious!" Harmony shrilled. "Once he gets into that elevator with all those keys he can just—"

As curious as Jade was to hear the end of that sentence, the warning look Elijah had shot Harmony once more caused the blonde to quiet, and as it was, Jade's time was up. Like a flash, she was gone, although she was just a bit worried that she had cut it too close. Spike was quick after all, and he was no young vampire. But there she was, in timing that would do in the movies, her fingers shot out and curled around the edge of the door before it could close. The gears screeched, her muscles tensing, it went no further, then opened further of its own accord. There was Spike, his hands wrapped around the keys. He'd jutted one in, but she had no doubt he had looked over them with as much detail as possible.

"Sod off, you bloody bint," He said with venom, for the benefit of listeners, but handed the keys back to her, his thumb brushing her hand as he did so. He didn't risk a smile, but his eyes were gentle as she brought him back to the others, like a cat returning with her caught prey. She released him fiercely enough so he stumbled at Harmony's feet, and Spike gnashed his teeth together as he settled back onto his feet, as if she'd hurt him worse than she had.

"Told you," Jade shrugged triumphantly. "There's something about seeing that hope in their eyes after it's snatched away," she managed a sadistic smile as she tossed the keys back to Harland, who caught them, panegyric in his wide, fawning eyes.

"You are fast," rasped the Dark one. And then, hardly more than a blur, he was standing right in front of her. Jade caught herself for a breath she wouldn't have needed, trying to keep her disgust and dread hidden as his near proximity gave her the jitters. And he was _fast_. Fast in a way even she wasn't. Speed and strength grew as a vampire's years continued on, and years was the one thing she didn't have. She had strength, yes, more than any fledging vampire her age, or any Slayer. Maybe even more than Kern. But the speed, startling to humans, younger vampires, it didn't quite reach the Dark one's, and _that_ was troubling. "But not that fast." Kern looked at her eyes, and she rolled them to avoid looking at him. "What are you?" The vampire demanded, curiosity more than anger in his tone.

She hesitated. They'd cautioned her on revealing that she used to be a Slayer, to at least not outright announce it on arrival, but she might not be able to avoid it. She was so tempted to look at Spike for guidance, but couldn't manage it, seeing Harmony shoot him a boastful smirk in his direction.

 _Say what you hav' to,_ Spike was there in her head anyway. _They'll distrust you either way. Just don't apologize for it._

"The strongest vampire you could have." Jade said, still hesitating. Kern reached out then, with his long wiry fingers, to brush her cheek. It was all she could do not to shove him back, hating the leathery feel of his talons, the hard, sharp points of his claws.

"And why is that?" Elijah's cool voice broke in, and Jade's eyes shot to him. "If it isn't magic, then what is it that makes you so sure?"

"Oh my god, I like totally get it," Harmony declared. "Like super, super obvious." She beamed elatedly. Jade felt her stomach twist, but it was basically inevitable anyway. Thankfully, Kern was also distracted, stepping back from Jade and curling his nauseatingly long fingers around his elbow. Away from her, thank God.

"Do share," Elijah said coolly, glancing at his blonde companion.

"She ate a vengeance demon," Harmony declared proudly. "That must be it."

There was silence. Spike was the first one to break it. "Are you completely bonkers?" He declared. "No, don't answer that. You just did. You daft bint."

Kern let out a disgruntled hissing noise, shaking his head.

"Really, Harmony, your skills of deduction leave nothing to desire," Elijah said, a bored, unsurprised look on his face as he surveyed his decidedly unintelligent companion.

"I know, right," Harmony grinned from ear to ear.

"I used to be a Slayer, you idiot," Jade broke in, exasperated. "Before I was turned. Not, whatever garbage just came out of your mouth," she waved vaguely with her hand. The heads snapped back to her, all but Harmony, whose smug look was overturned by dismay.

"Okay, so I was close," Harmony muttered in her defense.

"A Slayer," Elijah murmured, his eyes rapt with attention as the dark circles scanned her face. Jade glanced away, towards Kern who had another scowl on his face. Or perhaps that was just a side effect of the vamp-face forever.

"Disgusting," Kern grumbled. "They are a plague upon this world."

"I couldn't agree more," Jade said with a pliant smile, the edge of her fangs resting over her bottom lip. "However, I'm the improved version. Much more powerful, and much more…" her eyes flitted between the two of them, "ominous."

"And have you inside information then," Elijah asked, still thoughtful. "On their workings?"

"No," Jade said immediately. "I wasn't part of their circles. It was below me."

"Think it's the other way around," Spike muttered, in character. The white-blonde vampire had never pressured her to join the Slayers for definite. Never thought she needed to, that she was just fine the way she was. Heck, he'd even told her that she didn't need to take on this mission, that she didn't owe them anything. Part of her wished she had listened.

"Spike, however, had plenty of inner knowledge." Jade pointed out. "Had," She added, when Kern's disturbing eyes centered on the snarky vampire. "He's been gone a couple months, so his knowledge isn't up to date." She reached towards him as if to cup his cheek, keeping her expression unreadable when he flinched. "Isn't that right?"

"Go to hell," Spike muttered with as much vehemence as he could muster, not meeting her eyes. Because his eyes were gentle, the soft blue wells that they were, with so little anger in them when they were directed at her that it was the only part of his performance lacking.

"We have ways that could loosen his tongue," Elijah offered, turning those cold eyes on Spike.

"Uh, uh," Jade raised a finger and shifted it from side to side as she clicked her tongue. "My prize, my rules. I might share, if I'm feeling charitable. But I'm not feeling it yet."

"A Slayer-Vampire," Harmony was still mumbling disconsolately to herself. "Big deal," She huffed under her breath, which was never out of hearing for a vampire.

"And what do you want, here?" Elijah asked. More the spokesperson than Kern, with that unending smirk tainting his features. And it was true Jade probably would have found him handsome once, with that beautiful dark skin and sleek features. But he paled in comparison to the one vampire standing at her side, not to mention the darkness in Elijah's eyes that gave her the creeps, even with his human countenance.

"I want in," Jade declared. "Alright, so I'm more for the violent side of world domination. But you have a good vibe here. Turning in little fan boy meat bags by the hundreds, like sheep flocking to the wolves. But sooner or later, the Slayers will get their noses out of joint and come in in full force."

"They wouldn't dare," Harmony disagreed. "Like, they're not even popular. Nobody wants them."

"Yeah, but we're vampires. One of your stupid little minions will make a stupid mistake, and the Slayers will use that like a battle charge, try to clear you out before you can say 'oops'. And they'll deal with the repercussions after. But I can help with that. And you'll find I can blend with your goodie-two-shoe front if I have to." She made sure to roll her eyes to display reluctance. "But I know this isn't all you have behind the scenes, and I want in."

"You think you have something to add, do you?" Elijah questioned, taking a step nearer to her. She felt her whole body tense, wanting desperately to step away.

 _It's alright_ , the voice in her head said. _I'm here_. If Spike had sensed her discomfort, perhaps she wasn't hiding it from Elijah, but she settled that fear with common sense. Spike knew her better than anyone, and he had a window inside her head. A window sometimes she wished very much wasn't there—the incident from earlier was enough to make her want to die from shame—but there nonetheless.

"Obviously," She shrugged. "More than you know." She glanced to Kern, who was still scowling in distaste. With only the slightest of hesitation, she stepped towards him, preparing herself for breaking her very much wanted personal bubble and gripped Kern's wrist with all of her strength. He hissed in sudden alarm, claws biting into her arm as he tried to loosen her grip. And couldn't. Couldn't even move her, as she tensed her body and formed like a statue. She tightened her pressure until Kern leaned towards her, in pain, and then she released him, stepping back with a triumphant, boastful smirk. "Satisfied?"

"Rarely," Elijah admitted, his voice deep and low. Jade shivered, but not out of concupiscence. It was a deep seated fear, lining in her stomach, but she met his gaze for the three seconds she could spare.

"Arrogance is not needed," Kern growled, rubbing his sore wrist.

"But power is," Elijah pointed out, turning his head towards the leathery creature. "And she has that in spades."

"A bit, like, rude if you ask me," Harmony muttered.

"I didn't," Elijah smirked at Harmony's pout.

"Fine, whatever. As long as she doesn't destroy any more of my furniture. In fact, just like, stay away from my whole suite, okay? And my dog. You totally stressed him out."

Jade tongued the bottom of her fangs. "I'll try my best." She said caustically, and Harmony wrinkled her nose at the insincerity of Jade's tone. Still, it wasn't the blonde that worried Jade. She was the front picture of the Vampire movement, but she wasn't the brains. It was Kern and Elijah, and they were the ones that eyed her closely. Not Harmony, who spent more time glancing at her nails or fixing her hair than caring too deeply about the conversation.

"Very well, then. You and your _pet_ ," Elijah glanced at Spike. "Are free to stay."

"Go to hell, mate," Spike growled.

"Do behave," Jade cooed in a simpering tone that made her want to cringe. She glanced back to Kern and Elijah. "It's not just a roof over my head that I want," Jade reminded them. "I didn't come here to paint my nails and play with dogs."

"Hey," Harmony protested. "You say it like that stuff is a bad thing."

"That'll come in time," Elijah smirked. "Prove yourself and we might find ourselves more inviting."

"I'll count on it," Jade muttered as vehemently as she could manage. Here it was. Her chance. Nothing concrete, but how could she expect it to be? She was here, and they hadn't taken Spike away. Harmony was eyeing her with suspicion, but it was just as likely just distaste, not that the blonde actually doubted anything about Jade at all, just that she didn't like her. Kern's eyes hadn't left her face, and the vampire was obviously displeased with her as well—not that she could really blame him. She hadn't been gentle, crushing down on his arm with most of her strength. At least it reassured her. She _was_ stronger than him, as ancient as he was. She'd tear off his head if she had to.

Elijah's face shifted into another arrogant sneer. "Please do, Slayer-Vampire. Welcome to the ranks."


	70. Chapter 69

**69**

It had been three bloody days and Jade's impatience was palpable. They'd been given a more permanent room on a different floor, shared with a few other vampires. Bloody sods. And of course there'd been a nice, bloody uncomfortable room attached to Jade's suite so that Spike could sit there on the damn uncomfortable, cold floor while Jade had herself much needed kips. Still it was that or lock him somewhere else away, and she had been adamant about keeping him near. Probably wasn't best for her reputation, but if he even tried to tell her it might be better if they sweep him somewhere else, she argued immediately. And she was in control of this part of the show. The prisoner couldn't very well beg to be taken off, now could he? She was obsessed with keeping him near her, seeing danger at every turn. Wasn't complete paranoia though. Her fear was well founded.

He didn't trust a bloody person in this building, and those wankers Elijah and Kern were the worst. Elijah seemed all manipulation and tricks, a vampire that reminded Spike a little too much of Angelus. Whenever the dark-skinned vampire looked too long at Jade, that bloody calculating look of his, it made Spike want to ram a stake in his corrupt heart. But he couldn't of course, in more ways than one. Didn't need to warn Jade about him either, she had sensed it, same as he. Something dark in him, even more than the lack of a soul bit. And then there was that ancient, wrinkly bag of a vampire Kern who while didn't seem to be the conniving one was troubling enough. Fast as hell, for as old as he was, though Spike still smirked at the memory of Jade's strength clashing with the Dark One's. More than the wrinkle-bag had damn well expected, that was for bloody sure.

At least they had solved the blood problem, for now. He knew Jade had been damn relieved about that one, and so had he. A blood-deprived Jade was not a problem he had wanted on their plate, and he knew she would have gone without rather than even attempting to try human blood, even if it was in a blood bag.

Their solution had come in the form of Harmony, bloody believe it or not. She had stalked over to them one day, perfectly pleased with herself when she handed Jade a thermos and gloated about one of the new rules of the vampire movement, which Harm called her followers 'Harmonies', vampires or not, and Spike could barely even wrap his head around the fact that a bint so blatantly off her gourd could have amassed so many idiot fans. The rule that Harmony had insisted on was drinking animal blood to better control themselves around humans. Something she had been forced to take on during her time in Wolfram & Hart. Helped satiate the cravings when they were around the happy meals, so part of the rules to fit in, had to drink the animal blood. Jade wasn't part of the vampire entourage that followed Harmony around—more bloody groupies—so Spike suspected that Harmony had only suggested it to try to piss the Slaypire off in her own way.

Little did she know, and Spike still smirked thinking about it. Jade had been so happy she had barely been able to manage a glower and a disdainful sniff of the offered blood before downing it with a grimace. And it had been actual animal blood. She'd hesitated for only a second, and Spike had reassured her that it wasn't human, just by scent. And Jade was so relieved, she had been shaking when Harmony had flounced away. He wanted to reach out and grip her then, calm her down and relax her with a touch on the shoulder.

He hadn't, of course. For more reasons than one. Mostly being the fact he was acting like her prisoner, and getting far too many sneers from the vampires that came near. There weren't too many. Jade did a mostly bang up job of managing to intimidate the wankers who wanted friendship. They either fled or stuck around, like big stupid puppies wanting some encouragement from their master.

There weren't as many vampires here as he thought, at least not that many that he had seen. It was clear that the ones they interacted with weren't exactly high bloody caliber. Just more minions to line the ranks, most of them coming to the place for security. Thought they could score some easier prey that way, with the innocuous humans crowding the outside doors and begging for autographs and meetings. Stupid sods. He'd never understand the human race.

Used to be he understood just plenty. How to lure them in, how to sink his fangs in right proper, how to drink and drink and drink until that little pause in their heart beat, that precipice between death and a real, real bad infirmity. And how their faces looked, that little hope in their eyes that they might still have a chance, and how that look quashed as he went over the line and took too much to give back. Watched and felt them die in his arms, their bodies cold and emptied, his stomach brimming, almost too full. And sometimes he could left a bit, left them alive and be full enough, but he wouldn't. Because there was no mercy. No conscience. If he left someone alive it was out of indifference or distraction from something a bit more pressing. If he had the time though, it wasn't an art, like sodding Angelus had made it, it was just a triumph. Some fight he'd had and won, not some sadistic abomination he'd created.

But they were cattle, so tuned into the bloody telly and their cyber whatever, following blindly. They'd created this sodding mess by being so wrapped up in their idiotic fantasies. Could be that the human race could rise up with the Slayers. Together, there wouldn't be much hope for a vampire then. Stronger and faster than any human, but there'd always be a ratio. One that didn't favor those trapped during the day time. How hard would it be to set a vampire nest on fire in the middle of the day and sweep away the bloody dust piles later, job well done. No but now there was all this talk on rights and compassion, and the humane thing to do. Didn't make a lick of sense. Vampires weren't bloody human, they were demons. Didn't deserve that same mercy just because they could look the same.

'Least there'd be some hope for that Mok'Tagar friend of Jade's. A lucky one, she could take on the façade of a human. Most demons couldn't. How much the human race's willingness for singing kumbaya and peace rallies would hold out then, he wondered. Be a damn sight to see.

As it was, the vampires were very careful on what side they let the public see. Had to be. Start outright slaughtering with vamp faces, even the most idiotic people would start to hesitate a little. So that called for suits and dresses, all the vampires conforming to a strict dress code that Harmony implemented. And she'd select a couple groupies for her entourage out into the parties she flocked to. Spike never thought he'd see it, but it seemed like Harmony had found something she perfectly excelled at. Being an airhead celebrity. Still, it wasn't so much Harm that Jade and he were worried about. Jade had made it clear she had no desire to be seen in public with Harm, wasn't looking to be part of her bodyguards, and the git, Elijah, had agreed with her. Keep her secret for now, like some weapon they sought to use.

Little did they know it wouldn't get that far. Jade and he were waiting, waiting to be included in something bloody concrete, but in the meantime, they were investigating. Trying out each floor they were allowed access to, getting a look at the vampires in the building, as many as they could see. Trying to suss out the works, so they had something to report back. They'd heard from Willow on the second day, a quick little message that been almost painful in its loudness. Small miracles for them being alone in their room at the time, be a bloody task trying to have a normal conversation with someone shouting in their noggins. Gave Spike one hell of a headache. And Willow sounded distracted, like she had something else worth doing and this was just a quick check-in. 'Course, they didn't have much to tell her, which had increased Jade's anxiety even more, Spike knew. The Slaypire wanted more information, more frantic to find out something juicy the next time the witch came calling. Spike was more relaxed. They had time. Didn't want to trip any alarm bells by tipping their hands too early. But Jade wanted results. He could see it in her jerky movements, the way her eyes were constantly flitting around the room and how she'd stare off into bloody space when she was thinking too hard. She worried enough for the both of them, so Spike could be calm.

But he didn't have any medals in patience either. Three days, and they had barely a whisper of Kern and Elijah, doing whatever dirty deeds they had in mind behind the curtain.

It was late morning still, and they had yet to go out and mingle. Most of the other vampires were still sleeping, and there was only so much sneaking around in daylight they'd pass off as casual walking before it became a bit suspicious. Jade was silent, and though she had combed the room a dozen times over the last three days, they still didn't risk talking aloud.

 _Looking a little worried there, pet,_ He said in her mind. She was quiet, too. Since that first slip, she hadn't let anything more than a couple words get through from time to time. He'd wanted to tease her about it a fair bit more, but she had shut down, stiffer than a log, and he had let it go. No need to torture the poor girl, even if it had been amusing. For Spike's side, he was a bit more versed in telepathy—an unfortunate happening when he was with the Scoobies, so he was better at keeping his own thoughts where they belonged, his noggin.

 _Just don't feel like I'm getting anywhere_ , Jade answered honestly, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing up at him. She had reneged on the dark clothes to accept something less threatening looking—another one of Harm's bint requests. Refusing a dress, the Slaypire was clothed in dress pants and a long sleeved dress shirt that only barely dodged the no black by being blue instead. It was the most grown-up he'd ever seen her dress, like she belonged in an office or something. Not quite Jade, not Vampire, but the weird spot in between that Harmony was converting all the minions too. Had to look nice for the general public. And there were plenty of visits. They hadn't been allowed that close yet, not even on the same floor, but they were definitely there, of all sorts. For parties, meetings, all their dingy little get-togethers, just enough to gather some public trust. 'Course, they stayed clear of that, and the floors where the humans were allowed weren't the ones that Spike was interested to. 'Course those would look pretty and perfect as to not raise suspicion. What Spike wanted to see was behind the curtain. They had to get there.

 _Patience, luv_ , he coached her.

 _Because immortality means we have all the time in the world?_ She asked back dryly.

' _Nuf of it,_ he responded, not letting her ruffle his feathers. She was anxious, riled and damn well antsy, but he didn't let it reach him. One had to be the anchor, even if it was him for once.

 _Did I do something wrong, you think?_

 _No,_ he said firmly. _They're just testing you. Playing their game, is all. Just keep to your wits._

 _And what about you?_ Jade asked, her eyes slightly narrowed. _They'll want to beef on you eventually._

 _Bloody well deal with that when we come to it._

He heard the tapping of feet at the same time Jade did, their noses turning to the door in unison. Jade was up, pushed off the bed and nearly at the doorknob before their guest could reach it. Realising that it was perhaps a bit too eager, she paused, sinking back towards the bed.

"What is it?" She snapped irritably when they finally did hear the raps on the door.

"Pardon," A piteous voice sounded on the other side. "Your presence is demanded."

Jade was at the door, having opened it in but a second. "Is it?" Spike knew her gold eyes would have narrowed dangerously, and she was likely a frightening sight to behold because it garnered a stammer out of the pathetic sod.

It wasn't Harland this time, but another vampire with the same paltry personality. Easily frightened, with no spine at all. Sure, they'd act all tough guy if they were pitted against a helpless human in an alley, but here, it was instinct for weak vampires to bend to the strong. Spike knew that well enough from both sides. He'd been a Master Vampire, led the Aurelius Order. He'd fallen in line too. Not to Angelus, 'least not willingly, reluctantly enough. But to Dru, many, many times. Been in love with her, that was part of it. Falling in line to stronger vampires, it was a must when doing the opposite just led to death. Still, Spike had held his own over much older vampires, and he couldn't help but look down on the whimpering vampires he'd seen in this nest so far. Pathetic, hiding under Harmony's skirt and pretending to be harmless creatures. And now, quivering in the presence of Jade. Who was a goodie-good with compassion dripping from her, too much for her own good. And they didn't see through that, not a tick.

Probably good for Jade and Spike's sake, though.

"R-requested," The vampire backtracked. "Requested. The Masters wish to see you."

"Fine. Let's go," Jade shot out in short, snappy sentences, directing her gaze to Spike.

"I'm fine here," He denied insolently. "Just getting comfy." Jade took a step towards him, and that was his cue, raising his hands in surrender as he reluctantly stepped over to her. The pitiful messenger had a smirk on his face, and Spike wanted nothing more than to wipe the smarmy look off. Hadn't a clue, that vampire did. Looking at Spike like he was the wretched one.

Hadn't a clue.

It was a different floor that they arrived at this time. Hadn't been in the 50s before now, and they stepped off into another floor that was hardly distinguishable from the rest. Just some more office like structure with a multitude of halls. But there was something that seemed off from the meticulous setting, and it wasn't just the sodding dim lights. Weren't as many candles on this floor, light bulbs instead. As much as candles had that ancient, tradition look, there was always a bit of fear on the fire hazard part of it all. Maybe it was the carpet at their feet, the drab frayed edges on the otherwise newly furnished—stolen?—rug. The walls were a dull gray, like it had tried to be white and just gave up. One of the panels was askew and from it ran a cable, a safety hazard to anyone who was actually mortal. None of this bunch, he bloody well suspected. The halls seemed darker as they went down them, his eyes adjusting more and more until he didn't have a sodding doubt that his pupils were as big as sodding dinner plates. And every once in a while Jade would turn back, a look over her shoulder that she thought was surreptitious, her golden eyes glinting in the increasing dark. Like a jaguar stalking her prey, although her gaze was far too placid to be mistaken for a predator.

He had been one once, lurking in the shadows. Watching a Slayer as she danced in a sea of ignorant and insignificant mortals. Power raging in her small limbs with each movement and it had been a different sort of dance that Spike had been imagining with her, one with pain and blood. And he would have that dance many times with her over the next years. And then that sort of dwindled off into the receiving end of the blood and pain bit and then not at all.

Point was, he'd been the big bad once, the hunter. And now they were being shuffled into some obscure rooms trying not to quiver in their johns. The little lambs in the big lions' den though they tried to act otherwise. Like they weren't wary of the big kahunas. It hadn't been the first time Spike had hated his own kind—Angelus had given him plenty of reasons, but he'd never quite feared them until now. Vampires changing the way they acted and worked so that society would accept them. That was bloody uncalled for, them changing their ways like that. Unless they had damn good reason. And it was a tiny bit alarming to think what it could be.

Bout time for there to be a door, somewhere to actually go, and of course it opened of their own accord as they approached it, vampires and their sodding flare for the dramatic. They stepped through, and of course there was the red lighting in the background as they were led into a room that wasn't quite as big as he expected. Some sort of meeting room, with a large table that had part of it covered with some cloth tarp. Harmony was missing, off on something else likely, but there was the batty old one and the cocky bastard, with a few of their minions standing by, these ones dressed in cloaks instead of the dress clothes Harm tried to fit everyone in. That was a bit more old agey and the creepy vibe vampires usually went for. Creepy. What was he, Buffy? Bit harder to respect his race when he couldn't deny the tacky clothing and shoddy hair. 'Cept him, of course.

"I'm here," Jade declared, tossing her head back and the loose hair away from her eyes. She had her jaw set firmly and her golden eyes glinted with defiance, not deference. "You wanted to see me?" She didn't add the word _finally_ , but she spoke it so loud in her head that Spike could hear it, although unlike the rest of her words, which were spoken steady and firm, gutsy, it was of trepidation.

"Yes. Thank you for being so expedient," Elijah spoke in that sneering, insincere way he had, with those cool, carefully spoken words, he still treated the whole thing as if it were a satire, as if Jade was some child to be tolerated. At least he didn't treat her like a moron, like he did Harmony. Instead, he revelled in the superiority his knowledge held over her.

"I'm not one to waste time," Jade said easily, her words sharp and to the point. She nodded to the other spectators. "Are you going to introduce your friends?"

"They are of little consequence," Elijah smirked. "But we've been talking about you."

"Discussing your worth," Kern rasped in his brittle tone.

Jade glanced towards the ancient vampire. She didn't bother to hide the disgust on her expression, except she coupled it with her taunting smile. "How's your wrist?" She asked coyly, earning a growl from the vampire. She'd confessed to hearing a crack in it when she had grabbed it three days earlier, and though Spike was sure it would have healed by now, there was no mistaking Jade's triumph over his pain. It was a jab, and he was proud of her for it. Proud of her for all of it. He could hear some of the errant thoughts in her head, knew how sodding scared she was—couldn't blame her for that—but she still managed to play the game like a bloody pro.

"We thought it was time to take you into our confidence," Elijah continued with his peacekeeper smile, ignoring the snarl of his companion and the smug expression of Jade. "Give you an idea of our direction."

"And how I fit in," Jade said. She looked over to Spike, her golden eyes meeting his, her vampire face almost soft for the briefest of seconds. "Sit," She commanded, snapping her fingers and pointing to a chair.

 _So forceful,_ he couldn't help but tease, while managing a sullen teenager look—hey, he'd had lots of inspiration from that one, seeing plenty of little Buffy in her troublesome teenager years. He shouldered to the table, sitting slowly in one of the chairs. Jade took the one beside him, directly across from Elijah. Elijah's eyes flickered over to him, that ever-deliberative look on his face before they settled back on Jade.

"So what is it," Jade prompted, not answering Spike's comment. She'd be too wound up now, especially for humor. She spread her fingers out on the table, pressing them deep into the wood. Likely to keep herself from trembling. "That you finally decided to enlighten me about? Is Harmony going to be on SNL next week, after Letterman? Is that it?" Her tone was caustic, earning another disapproving scowl from Kern. Although that was likely just his face.

"You were right in assuming this isn't just a… public relations building," Elijah said easily, not bothered by the vampire beside or across him. "We have more important things in mind than appeasing the public."

"Obviously," Jade replied, her tone equally as cool. "So what is it, then? I hope it's not another ending the world plan, those bore me."

Elijah's lips curled into a cynical smile. "We have no need to end the world when we can own it." Well, see. That's what Spike never got about those diabolical apocalypse types. If you bloody ended the world then, you've ended the world. Not a bloody thing left after that. Didn't make any sense for the immortal kind. And so yeah, he'd done his share to keep the world spinning, even before he snagged himself a soul. Still, there were the moronic types that didn't quite see it. Just wanted pain and destruction over everything, like the sod, Angel. But here, not hey were singing a smarter tune. Just dominate the world, not crush it to bits. Smart of them.

"Own it?" Jade's voice was mocking. "Vampires have had hundreds, thousands years, even, to try that. They've failed. And that was with only one Slayer. Now you have over a thousand. Even if you began mass turning everyone, that'd cause a panic. Oh, and a shortage of good ol' human blood."

"You're correct," Elijah responded, but he sounded amused rather than affronted. "Which is why mass turning was never our plan. As for the Slayers, we've considered them too, of course. Although we've been considering other options since you've arrived."

"What other options?"

Kern growled as he reached out his long, twisted talon fingers towards the table and withdrew the tarp from it, revealing a map. The world's map, to be more specific. There were little glowing crystals around it, and though Spike didn't know barely a lick of magic, he knew that's what powered this thing. There were masses of glowing blue dots on the map, and Spike's stomach lurched when he saw where the blue dots were most concentrated. San Francisco, Tokyo, Sao Paulo, Scotland, London were just a few. Slayer Bases.

"You can track the Slayers," Jade said. Her tone was steady, but he knew it shook her.

"Not all the time," Elijah admitted, and as he said it, the dots blinked and were out.

"Protected by magic," Kern rasped. "Can only see the large masses."

"So someone's magic keeps you from tracking all the Slayers all the time, and the lone ones slip through your fingers?" Jade asked. Spike had a good idea whose magic that was. Must have been another precaution added after the whole Mandy hunting down the Slayerettes debacle.

"Yes," Elijah answered. "But it's not the Slayers we care about. At least not as first priority." He pointed at the map again, and though a few blue dots were blinking back into sight, there were some lighter, paler green ones that Spike hadn't noticed at first glance.

"And what are those?"

"Potentials," Kern growled. "The forgotten ones. The young ones." Unlike the blue dots, they didn't flicker. Though lighter, they were constant. "This one." Kern pointed at one dot in Idaho somewhere.

"What about it?" Jade asked, impatience coloring her tone.

"One moment," Elijah crooned. "Just… wait."

Jade's fingers curled and uncurled, and if it was a show for their vampire audience or her own uneasiness, it was hard to tell. As for Spike, he had a feeling he knew what would happen, baring his face into a scowl that didn't mask his dismay. Then there it was. The green dot flickered then. Continued to fade. Then went out abruptly and completely. Spike could see Jade, unblinking, knowing she was willing the little blink to come back. She knew what he did. That all Potentials became Slayers now, each one of them. When they reached a certain age. The youngest Slayer was twelve years old, but they could change later, fourteen, fifteen, even sixteen. It was likely, however, that this dot in particular had been young. Too young to be on Buffy's recruiting list.

Bloody wankers.

"Bastards," He said aloud, knowing Jade couldn't. He was ignored by the rest of the vampires, who had begun seeing him as a harmless, occasionally mouthy fly on the wall.

"You're killing the potentials." Jade said it evenly, but he knew how her heart must be clenching.

 _Calm, luv. There's nothing you could have done._

"Yes," Elijah responded casually. "Some of them. Can't be too obvious, now. But first, we lower the pool of candidates for the Slayers before we try dealing with the ones we have."

"Smart," Jade said, trying to reach admiration but not quite hitting the mark. "Going to piss off a lot of people by knocking off children, though," she added with vehemence.

Elijah shrugged. "We're careful."

"And how, how do you find them? Although I'd rather hunt down the scary blue dots than these little green ones." She flicked her finger dismissively at the board.

"Magic," Kern answered, and Jade scowled at his ambiguous answer.

"It's powered by blood," Elijah inserted instead with a coy smile.

"What kind of blood?"

"Slayer blood, of course." Elijah said triumphantly, as if he'd earned a bloody gold star on his spelling test. "Bring her in." He turned his head over his shoulder, and another door opened. Two vampires entered, flanking a smaller form in the middle of them. A Slayer. Spike could see that even before the stench of her blood hit the air.

 _Don't breathe in her scent, luv._ He cautioned Jade, seeing an almost imperceptible nod from the brunette. Jade had turned near to stone as she looked over the girl. And Spike could see her too. Sixteen years old, if that. Of Asian descent, Chinese, likely. Might have been pretty, if her long black hair wasn't so matted, half falling in front of her face, And there was blood there, and dirt on otherwise pale skin. Her eyes were barely open, and it was obvious she was being carried in rather than walking on her own.

"Meet Lily," Elijah said, his black eyes shining dangerously as his lips twisted into a dangerous smirk. "She's kind enough to help us keep up the spell, with her generous blood donations." The vampires handed the girl to him, who quailed visibly as he wrapped his hand around her arm to keep her upright. She didn't make eye contact with them, staring instead at the floor, but from what Spike could see of her face, he didn't recognize her. Must not be one of Buffy's girls, which was a sodding fortune for him and Jade, because at least Lily wouldn't know who they were. But she was wretched looking. There were bruises, cuts. A mass of messy bites at her neck where they fed.

"Taste-testing?" Jade asked in an unemotional voice.

"One good thing about the rise of Slayers," Elijah said as he curled his face into the girl's neck. "More Slayer blood to go around." The girl let out the softest of whimpers, trembling, but made no effort to rip her way out of Elijah's reach, even if she could.

 _Spike, we have to_ —Jade's voice cut into his head, desperate and tearful.

 _I know, luv_ , he soothed her. _We'll get her out when we bust out, I promise._

"You used to know something about that," Elijah added in a thoughtful tone, glancing now at Spike. "The Slayer of Slayers. Used to have quite a reputation. Someone to be feared. Admired, by us. And now look at you. Pathetic." The disdain dripped from the tight suited vampire's words. "Nothing but a pet."

"Maybe that's what comes of you from drinking Slayer blood, mate." Spike said back, casual, easy. Keeping none of his anger at the surface, but all of his hubris. "Can't wait to see how it curses you. And as for being nothin' but a pet, can step into a ring, you and I. See which one of us is the pathetic one."

Elijah laughed then, not at all bothered, while Kern growled.

"Oh, that'd be a fun fight," A haughty voice declared. "For about ten seconds, Spike, and then you'd get your butt kicked. I'd watch though." Harmony. She came in from the doors that Jade and he had entered earlier, and he turned to see her. All dressed up fancy, with her phone nearly glued to her cheek. "Talk to you later. Byes!" She snapped her phone shut, her high-pitched tone enough to make Spike cringe. Harmony smiled with her over-glossed lips as she passed around the table. "Sorry I'm late. Had a couple of phone calls. Meetings, things. You know. Celebrity stuff." Harmony glanced at the half-conscious Slayer.

"Ooh. I love when you bring Lily out," Harmony cooed, then a disgruntled expression took over her face. "Stupid animal blood. If I wasn't going out to another party tonight, I'd risk it." With a pout, she scooted past Kern and sat to the other side of Elijah. "Did I miss anything like, important?"

"You've interrupted," Kern criticized her with his guttural tone.

"Sorry," Harmony raised her hands in surrender. "My bad. Just pretend I'm not here," She zipped her lips in over-exaggerated mime.

"Bit harder when you talk your gob off," Spike snarked. Harmony frowned, opening her mouth in protest, but Elijah shot a glare at her, enough for her to reluctantly huff and close her mouth.

Elijah ran his finger down the girl's pale neck, over her unhealed wounds. He licked them then, causing a shudder from the girl, but not taking any blood into his mouth. "Curse of the Slayer blood," He chuckled. "That's an interesting take. What about you?" Elijah's black eyes fell on Jade. "Do you know how sweet the power tastes? If we are to be joint here, I suppose I mustn't keep it all to myself." Lifting up the girl, who was likely naturally thin, but now nearly gaunt, Elijah threw her onto the table, to the left of the world map, right in front of Jade.

"Why don't you have a taste," Elijah offered. "Just don't empty the poor girl. She's ever so useful."


	71. Chapter 70

**70**

It was the longest seconds of her life. Or were they short? She felt sick to her stomach, like each moment she wasted was one that they'd see right through and discover the truth. That she had a soul. That she'd never tasted human blood before.

Especially not a Slayer's. And there was the girl before her, and the look of it made her stomach twist. The tears drying on the curves of her face, the still visible bloodstains, both old and fresh. How long had she been here, like this? Like nothing at all. There was no fear as they tossed the girl around, nothing but disdain for the Slayer. And it made Jade sick, at the same time it made her want to tear the table into pieces and stake them all. Starting with Elijah, who held the crying girl, who brought his hands from her arm to her throat and back again, teasingly slow, mockingly gentle. And then Kern, the hissing ancient vampire who had licked his lips with anticipation of tasting the Slayer's blood again. Again was an assumption that Jade made, but not one far off the mark. She doubted they had that great self-control. And the girl, she was a blubbering, terrified mess. What she had gone through, Jade could only guess.

And she so desperately wanted to save her. And they had to. They couldn't leave her like this. They'd gone in as the two of them, but there was no way they were leaving the building without Lily. And hopefully it didn't have to still be standing. Jade avoided fire out of self-preservation, but now she imagined burning down the building. Turning every vampire to ash. Or maybe just do it by hand. Back to the thought of stakes, she instead wanted to look into the eyes of every single vampire as she ended their existence. No mercy as she stared into their dead, heinous golden eyes. She wanted to do it so badly, with such a vehement _hatred_ that it surprised her. She'd never wanted to kill anyone so badly as she did now, and she blamed what happened to this girl on each and every vampire in their building, even the ignorant ones. They all deserved it.

And especially now, as she stared at the girl presented to her on the table, who let out nothing louder than the softest of whimpers in protest, not even trying to sit up, just hugging herself. She was clothed, but barely. Torn jeans, a dirty long sleeved shirt. They treated her as an animal, but like no animal should ever be treated.

Jade hated them. Hated the confident, easy look in Elijah's eyes as he looked at her, expecting her to pleased with his offering. And Harmony, a annoyed look on her face, muttering that Jade didn't deserve such a treat, and Kern's permanent scowl, a hunger in his eyes as he irritably waited his turn. And the only vampire she couldn't turn to look at, not now, not without giving herself away. The blue eyes she desperately needed to see, to give herself strength.

 _What do I do?_ She implored him. She needed the answer only he could give. He'd have the solution, he always did.

 _I don't know_ , Spike admitted, and her spirits sank. Sank and twisted into a tight ball, feeling so heavy and draining as it dropped through her stomach. _But whatever you choose, I got your back, Jade._

Jade. So rarely he called her that. She knew he was dead serious, and somehow, now, him not knowing reassured her. It showed his irrevocable trust. Whatever she chose, he was there. He didn't think she needed help making the decision. That must mean she knew it on her own. She had to think of something. Or taste blood. Even now, the stench of it was hard to ignore. She had curled two fingers into her palm and promptly broke them as soon as she had caught sight of Lily, even before Spike had warned her. Now they throbbed against her skin, a white hot pain that kept her from sinking her fangs into the warm body without a thought at all.

She couldn't waste any more time. They'd get suspicious. Or they'd be affronted that she was unsatisfied with their generous gift. Unless she got affronted first. It wasn't even a plan, not a fully formed one. It was a reaction, a desperate, desperate hope.

She stood to her feet in a flash and a roar like a lion's burst from her throat. "Your ignorance astounds me!" Jade snapped, with all the fury she could manage. And she could manage a lot. All her disgust, her rage at what they had done to this poor, young girl, she flung it at the bewildered vampiric trio now. "Don't you know a thing about Slayer-Vampires?" She reached down to the girl, catching her by the throat. _I'm sorry_ , she said silently, for any pain she caused. Lily let out a half-sob, her eyes closed. "Their blood tastes disgusting to me." She had lifted up the girl into a near-sitting position, and now she shoved her back. Harmony, startled, dropped her phone, and was no help to catch Lily at all, but Elijah moved, swiftly, stopping the girl's body as she was shoved backwards, and wrapping an arm around her, wary. Jade hated putting Lily back anywhere near Elijah, but she had little choice. "Like mud."

"What?" Harmony's jaw dropped. "Are you like, serious? But Slayer blood is the best there is."

"Not to me," Jade growled. "It tastes disgusting to me. I don't know why. Trust me, I had more than one samplers. But they were all the same." Her heart, if it still beat, would be as fast as a hummingbird's now, a terrified, erratic beat. This was a bluff as she had never bluffed before. And she didn't need Spike to remind her just how bad she was at bluffing. He knew. She had no such thing as a straight face, apparently her eyes said it all. But she'd gotten better at holding her emotions back over the last couple of months. Particularly the last month, the one thing she had to thank Spike and Buffy getting back together for. And she was hiding behind her vamp face now. She could show intimidation, not fear.

"How interesting," Elijah managed finally, his eyebrows knotted in a contemplative frown as he cooed softly to the girl to calm her down, although she trembled madly in his grasp, wincing as he dragged his finger down her bite marks. "Slayer blood gives power like no other blood does."

"Tastes like it's rancid," Jade disagreed. "To me. I don't know why. Perhaps because I hold that power already," She gave a crooked, arrogant smile. "And if you figure out why it happens, I want to be the first to know," She growled. "Less threatening if the Slayers know I wouldn't drain them to death." She felt like stone, holding in a breath she didn't need. One previous encounter with a Slaypire and her entire story unravelled. Mandy had tasted her blood. Had fought Jade while Jade's blood was still pumping in her veins. So that was definitely a lie, a flat out untruth. But the only others who might have known, the vampires who followed Mandy, they had all died in that temple. If Mandy was the only one who ever turned, and if she hadn't told anyone besides her followers, then maybe there was a chance.

Would they believe her? Call her out? If they did that, it was back to ripping the table to pieces and staking them all. But they were outnumbered. The other vampires in their cloaks might be silent, but they were definitely present, all with eyes and strength of their own. She'd have to fight them all and make sure that Spike wasn't overtaken by Kern or even Elijah. She didn't know how old the dark-skinned vampire was, but he scared her even more than Kern did. And she hated him right now, even as he let go of Lily and handed her off to Kern instead.

"That is truly unfortunate," Elijah said easily. "I hope you realise we meant no disrespect."

"Disrespect still occurred," Jade snapped back. She couldn't be contrite and accept his apology, not if it meant showing weakness.

"Well, good." Harmony commented, as if anyone was listening. "Glad we didn't use any on you anyway. She's a delicate, and if you're not going to appreciate it, then fine, you don't get any."

"The word is delicacy," Spike pointed out. "Like a bloody food, Harmony."

"Hey, rude," Harmony protested, skewing up her eyebrows, but Jade's attention had moved from her and back to Kern and Elijah. They were the power couple. They were the ones she was worried about, and it was them that she had to win over. Kern was still scowling, but his expression seemed to lighten a bit, somehow, when he took Lily's wrist into his mouth and drew blood from it. Lily let out a light cry but didn't fight, and Kern only had a few slurps before releasing her. She was so weak, pale, nearly vampire pale, that if they took too much she'd be apt to keel over. Her heart went out for the poor Slayer. _We'll save you, I promise_ , she thought vehemently.

 _We will, luv_ , was Spike's voice in her head. She had thought it too loud again, and he had glimpsed it, but this time it didn't leave her with embarrassment, only relief at the comfort of knowing she wasn't alone. She had Spike to back her, and they'd handle it, whatever came their way.

"As it is, it's not something I've advertised," Jade added grudgingly, sitting back in her chair. "To Slayers or other vampires."

"Understandable," Elijah accepted.

"Then you will have none," Kern growled, his odd-colored eyes disconcerting, but they weren't suspicious. Kern just disliked her, and Jade could handle that. Dislike, sure. Just as long as they didn't suspect anything.

"As it is, you see now how we have the capabilities for the map. Take her back to her cage," Elijah shifted conversation easily, to one of his minions. Elijah had gripped Lily by the wrist, where fresh blood still gathered from Kern's bite. Jade's followed Lily as she was moved without protesting, back the way she came. Jade desperately wanted to object, to call Lily back, but she couldn't do so now. Her behavior was odd enough without calling more reason for them to question her. They would have to find Lily again, later.

"You use her blood to power it," Jade said as she watched Elijah reach towards the table, his hands still marked with Lily's fresh blood. He rubbed his fingers to the crystals surrounding the map and the green lights seemed to glow a bit brighter.

"That's correct. All the Slayers are linked somehow, you see. Even the potentials. We've considered and have used potential blood to power this, but their blood isn't as strong, and nor are the bodies themselves." His teeth curled up into a vicious smirk. "They don't last as long with the constant blood drain, you see. No more than a couple weeks. The most was a month and a half."

"And how long have you had L—This Slayer?" Jade asked.

Elijah shrugged. "A few months. She is resilient enough." Another confident smirk. She hated him. Wanted to rip out his spine and feed it back down his—

 _Focus_ , Spike's voice in her head cautioned. _Gotta keep yourself together, Bloody Mary. Just stay calm. Gotta play it close to the chest right now._

He was right. She managed a compliant nod. "Fair enough."

Harmony made a throat clearing sound, looking expectantly at Elijah. "Is it my turn now?" She asked, batting her long lashes at him. Long lashes that were darkened with too much mascara, her smile cloying and face tinted by so much make-up she hardly looked pale.

"Yes, Harmony," Elijah said in a blasé tone. He was too composed to roll his eyes, but his patience for the blonde was clearly not very excessive. In Jade's opinion, she found the shallow blonde exactly that, shallow and only caring about herself, but also the least intimidating. She was the only one that didn't frighten Jade in some way, partially because she almost didn't act more repulsive than some celebrities did. Narcissism and conceit, those were no new traits to superstars.

But this time, perhaps Jade had pinned her just a little too harmless.

"Goodie." Harmony turned her golden gaze over to Jade and Spike. "We shared the deets. Some of them. I mean. Um. The most important ones," Harmony caught herself, whetting Jade's curiosity. So there was more than just the killing of potentials, which didn't as much surprise Jade, but it did intrigue her. Another piece of the puzzle to figure out. And another thing to add to the list. Destroy the map, derail the vampires' headquarters, kill Harmony, Elijah and Vern. Rescue Lily. Get out of here. Things were piling up.

"So the thing is. You said you'd share, right?" Harmony's eyes flickered to Spike. Jade fought back the urge to blanche, her hand gripping tighter over her still healing, broken fingers. A possessiveness rose up in her, and a need to defend Spike, strong and overwhelming.

"Share, how?" Jade answered back, trying to sound disinterested.

"Well, like. He was with the Slayers. Left the bad guys behind for the good ones," Harmony snorted in revulsion. "Anyway, point is. He has the inside scoop, you know? We just want to talk to him about it. Not that you probably haven't done your questioning bit," She popped her lips, sounding as if she didn't really believe that part at all. Jade tensed, but she was mostly sure it was because Harmony thought she wanted Spike around for other things and that interrogation had been the least on her mind.

"I'm guessing you don't want me to be around," Jade responded evenly.

"The boys want to discuss other things with you. You know, away from Blondie Bear's ears and all that. Plus, it's just the boring little details we want."

"Blondie bear," Spike repeated with an embarrassed growl, but Jade found her mouth barely working. What to do, what to do. Act affronted and refuse to give him up, or what? She didn't him to leave her side. She couldn't protect him if she couldn't see him. Couldn't, couldn't.

 _It`s alright,_ Spike's soothing voice in her head. _Can't deny this too, luv. Be a bit too suspicious after the Slayer debacle. I'll be fine_.

 _I can't_ , she argued. _What if something happens? I just can't._

 _This was the risk. We gotta do it, luv_ , he insisted back, and Jade had no more words to argue, because she knew he was right. She couldn't deny this request. That was the whole point of bringing Spike, at least to Harmony's view. Jade had brought him because it was something they wanted. So this was part of the deal, in their eyes. She spread out her fingers, ignoring the painful twinge in her fingers. "Sure," Jade shrugged nonchalantly. "If he can tell you something, go for it." At her okay, the vampires in the room stepped towards Spike, forcing him to his feet.

"I can stand on my bloody own," Spike grumbled. "Be a sodding holiday, anyway, being away from her."

And Harmony had a cloying smile on as she rose to her feet. Apparently to lead the interrogation, then. Leaving Jade alone with Kern and Elijah. Jade couldn't tremble, couldn't hesitate. But as the blonde turned to lead Spike out, Jade added, as if she had just thought of it and hadn't been holding onto the words the entire time, "I want him back in one piece. He's my pet, after all. I won't have him maimed and disgusting. And try to keep that pretty face intact. It's not for his bad-mouthing that I keep him around, after all."

"Yeah, it _would_ be a bit of a shame to hurt this face," Harmony agreed with Jade, for once, reaching out and touching Spike's cheekbone. "Wouldn't it, blondie bear?"

Spike stiffened, his arm twitching as if to slap Harmony's arm away, but his vampire escorts weren't allowing him any movement. So he shrugged instead, "Don't know 'bout that. Be nice to do some work on yours, though."

"Tch!" Harmony gasped, stamping her foot. "You are _such_ a meanie, you know that? The meanest ex I've ever had. And _boyfriend_ , for that matter. You were never nice to me!" Her high-pitched shriek carried in Jade's ears even after they stepped beyond the door and out of view, Jade still hearing pieces of the conversation as they drew Spike away.

 _If you need me,_ Jade thought to him vehemently, _Just call. I'll be there._

 _It'll be fine, Super girl._ Was Spike's calm, easy response. _But I'll keep you 'pprised, yeah?_

 _Please_ , she agreed, turning her attention back to Elijah and Kern as they started speaking again. She felt alone now, without Spike at her side, as if now she was in trouble with the principal and not speaking as an equal at a meeting. She shook off the treacherous thought, her eyes bouncing between Kern and Elijah every three seconds, trying not to betray how her thoughts were with Spike. She couldn't have stopped them from taking him away—well, she _could have_. She could have stopped them all. But she couldn't, not yet. Not without finding out the entire puzzle.

"So what else did you have to share?" She said, keeping her tone insipid and unworried as she leaned back in her chair, her shoulders slouching and her posture relaxed in good ol' Spike fashion. Although she didn't pull off the look as easily as he did.

"A thought first," Elijah answered sedately.

"Potentials," Growled Kern. "Easy kills. Easy culls before they grow. But perhaps a waste."

"Of blood, you mean?" Jade asked, keeping the disdain evident in her voice. That was something else they needed to stop. Another spell from Willow and they could protect the Potentials as well. It was something she needed to tell her as soon as possible, if the witch would check in on them. Speaking of checking in, _Are you still okay?_ Being patient was definitely something that had eluded Jade all her years, and likely for the rest of her immortal life.

' _S fine_ , Came Spike's slightly amused and still serene reply. _God, woman, you're worse than an ol' biddy. I'm not a child, you know._

 _Sorry, just checking._

 _I'll let you know if they start crucifying me, yeah?_ His words were light, a joke meant to relax her, and she really did try to let the words sink in. He would be okay, she'd done as much as she could for him, and he wasn't helpless. Spike could take a beating. Heck, she'd given him plenty in their spars over the last couple of months.

"Not completely." Elijah answered. "We were thinking, perhaps we could make them like you. Lily, after all, is on her last legs. Her expiry date is around the corner, as it were, and maybe her use doesn't have to end to us yet."

"No," Jade rejected immediately, too quickly. Elijah and Kern shared a glance. Jade's chest felt tight. Another Slayer-Vampire in the world. She felt like an abomination already, but at least she had her soul. And Lily… she had gone through so much. She'd be tortured and unpredictable. As much as Jade wanted to save Lily, bring her home _alive_ and well, she wouldn't let her become a Slaypire. She'd have to kill her then anyway, and Jade would barely be able to bear it. "Trust me," She added with a more charming smile. "You don't want more Slaypires on your hands. They're unpredictable, and dangerous. And if you think they'd willing secede to you, you'd be wrong. They're like Slayers. But worse. They don't pal up."

"But you're the exception," Elijah stated coolly, his eyebrow slightly raised.

"I'm not your minion," Jade reminded him, flashing her dangerous, sharp-edged smile. "At least I don't plan to be. I'm a partner. I help, I get my hands dirty. And I get to kill something every once in a while or I get antsy. Don't expect that from the rest of Slaypires. They'd sooner kill you than fall in line. You might even find that from your limp Lily. Might be a bit of pent up aggression left over from being a glorified blood bag." She had leaned forward, her elbows on the table during her speech, and now she leaned back, shrugging nonchalantly. "Though it's up to you, I suppose. I can keep them in line if need be. Just forewarning. It's a ton of work dealing with soulless teenage girls." She snapped another vicious smirk.

"Trouble," Kern agreed in his guttural growl. "Is not needed. These vampires would be volatile and unstable. We have an example of that."

"Yeah, I don't like you either, batface."

"Enough," Elijah interjected as a displeased snarl built up in Kern's throat, the ancient vampire looking very peeved, his talons opening and closing slowly as if he was imagining wrapping them around Jade's neck. He settled with scratching them along the table instead, which was wince-worthy enough. Jade had hated those kind of sounds—nails on the blackboard thing— _before_ she became a vampire with super-good hearing. But she bit back her wince, settling on a more triumphant look instead. Pissing Kern off was fun, instead of frightening. Perhaps it was because Elijah held most of the power, at least the brain power. Elijah was the one that Jade didn't want to tick off. That was scary, not at all fun.

"In that case, we won't be too hasty. Lily should last a few more months," Elijah added contemplatively, stroking his smooth chin. "Perhaps more if we're fastidious."

"So that's your big plan, then?" Jade asked, interrupting Elijah's thinking—whatever _that_ entailed, Jade wasn't sure she exactly wanted to know. Dark and twisted, like the rest of them, likely. "You're killing Potentials so that they don't join the Slayer pool. Alright. That's something. But that doesn't really stop the hoard of Slayers we have to deal with now. And let me tell you, I might be able to kill some of them, but not that many. And not if something witchy gets involved."

"We have more in mind," Elijah answered easily, a light smirk on his lips, like a kid who had some great project to show the class.

"Like what?" She tried to keep her tone impatient and not curious. Demanding, not eager. "Are you going to turn the entire States of America?" She had meant it as a joke, but Elijah's lips twisted into a deeper leer. "You're not serious," Jade said, sitting back up in her chair.

"Not the entire country," Elijah waved his hand as if that notion was silly.

"We need only the strokes of power," Kern inputted.

"Yeah, whatever that means," Jade muttered for their benefit. "English?" She asked rudely, directing her gaze towards Elijah and earning another glare from Kern. It was almost nice, not using her filter. Not caring for once, what they thought of her. For Vampires, respect and dislike went hand in hand, and it wasn't the worst. Strange, and against her character, but it was nice for once. She didn't have to pretend to like them, nor did they make the same allowances for her.

"We don't need to turn the entire population," Elijah said with a light sigh. "Just the important ones."

"Like the…" Her mind reeled. Well, that was definitely something to think about. One thing that the Slayers couldn't do, force people to understand their point of view. Well, the vampires could. Take away the soul, take away inhibitions, teach them to thrive for the power. If they had enough self-control to pull it off, then they _could_ pull it off. Jade's stomach twisted. "President?"

Elijah shrugged. "Among others."

"VP. Senators. Court Justices. Judges. Army Generals, Police Chiefs," Jade ran through the list, speaking half to herself, but Elijah nodded an almost impressed nod. Probably surprised she had come up with that herself—spent too much time with Harmony, likely.

"Mainly, yes." Elijah admitted. "Along with a few other VIPs. I believe Harmony's trying to convince us of someone called… Brangelina?"

"That's Brad and Angelina," Jade chipped in immediately, and then coughed behind her hand at Elijah's eyebrow raise. "I mean, dunno. Well, don't listen to her, what does she know."

"The conversion will take place," Kern rasped. "And all will bow to the night."

"A timeline on this?" Jade asked Elijah. The vampire shrugged.

"Nothing strict," he answered. But his dark eyes were unblinking and there was a permanent smirk on his lips. He was lying. She was sure they had everything mapped out, who and when. But they weren't going to tell her, not now. And that was another thing they had to do before they left. Find out the list of who the vampires were planning on turning. The President and VP, well that was easy to find out. But which senators, and when? And their families too? Her mind was reeling. The task seemed insurmountable. She was again grateful that she didn't have to do it alone, that she had Spike. Even if he was playing the part of the unwilling prisoner, he was there with her. And if she had him at her side, they could do anything.

It had been a while since she checked in, so mentally hoping he wouldn't call her an 'old biddy' or overbearing or something British, she tentatively sent out a message. _How about now? Are you alright? There's more we have to do now._

No answer. Jade frowned, turning her attention back to Kern and Elijah as they were moving to dismiss her. "We'll keep you apprised of what we need you for. Make no mistake, we'll have use for you." Elijah's sickening grin again, but Jade barely registered it. _Spike?_

"Yeah, sure." Jade answered, distractedly. Realising it might sound a bit too agreeable, she half-heartedly added a, "If I feel like it, of course." She stood up from her chair, casting one more glance at the map in the table, the blinking blue lights and the constant wan green ones. The crystals that surrounded them, the blood smeared on top. She had to be paying attention to that, and not to the ache in her heart. Why hadn't he answered yet? Fear like bile was being to work its way up to her throat.

"You seem a bit hungry," Elijah pointed out condescendingly. "Hopefully you can find something more to your tastes to eat."

"Let's hope," Jade answered without much gumption. The vampires moved to flank her as she turned towards the door, out of habit, likely, because threatening, they were not. "And my pet? When should I expect him back?" She had to keep her tone even, aloof. Like she didn't care. Like she wasn't shouting at him in her head right now and receiving no answer.

"In good time, I'm sure," Elijah shrugged. "Just a few questions to ask him. He'll be back before you know it." There was no sincerity in those words, nothing to rely on in those dark eyes of his, and Jade bit back a shiver. She might have managed a shrug and some mumbled good bye, but her thoughts were far elsewhere as she allowed herself to be escorted to the elevator and down to her room. It was still early enough in the day that there was little movement, and as her escort left her from the elevator, she half burst into her room. Hoping, praying that Spike'd be there. That it was some sort of joke—or accident. That his ring had been broken or removed and he'd be sitting. But he wasn't. The room was empty, just as they left it.

With tears threatening her eyes, she stepped over to her bed, thoughts running so errantly through her head it was like electricity.

 _Spike_? She tried again. Was it the fourth time or the eighth. She'd lost count. It was like a mantra in her head. Spike, Spike, Spike, as she grew more agitated and terrified each time. Her chest felt tight. She had no need to breathe, which was fortunate, because she didn't know if she could right now. All she could think of how he'd been led away, so sure and calm. She never should have let him go. She should have fought them all. Fought them all when they'd thrown Lily at her. Rescued Spike and Lily in one fell swoop and damn all the consequences.

Oh, she couldn't think. Her mind was slick with possibilities. All what she should have done, what could have happened, what she could do now. It hurt, and she closed her eyes, pressing her fingers heavily into her skull. Needed some pain, some pressure to make her think straight. Panic rose up in her chest, compressing her so completely, she felt infinitesimally tiny. So useless, with all her strength. All she could do was nothing. Nothing as Spike was missing.

She tried to think of the possibilities. The good ones. There were many. He lost his ring. They were too far away for it to work properly. Something. Anything. Anything good. But all she kept drawing her thoughts to were the worst possible scenarios. Or just the one. Getting greeted by Spike's ashes. The thought made her sick, trembling. _Is there cameras here?_ She wondered, for the umpteenth time. She'd checked the room so many times, and yet, she held that paranoia with her, the fear that they were watching. Laughing as her anguish threatened to tear her down. It shouldn't be so hard. It should be easier. She'd dealt with this before, hadn't she? When Spike had come back and clearly with Buffy again, she'd forced herself to the realisation she'd lost him to good to Buffy. That there was no amount of anything that would right that. But she must have, with some sick sense of perversion, still held out the briefest of hopes, because she felt hollow now like she hadn't felt for so long.

When she'd come face to face with Bennett, her first boyfriend's, dead, walking, talking corpse and was expected to kill him, it was a blow like she had never felt, one that had shattered her. So much she'd released him with the twisted hope that somehow, he'd be different. But he hadn't. Killing in her name, so she had been forced to stake him. And with that, part of her had died. Some of her soul had withered away. She hadn't felt like living after that. Succumbing to her duties as a Slayer under the torturous tutelage of her sister because she thought she had no other path in life. It had been a deep hole she had sunk into.

And meeting Spike had caused her to drag herself out of it. To wake up, to live again. Even when she was no longer living, she had a purpose. What would be her purpose now?

This had to be a nightmare, it had to be. There was no way it was real. She wasn't strong enough for it to be real.

 _I've lost him,_ she thought to herself, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat, afflicted by the terrifying thought that kept repeating over and over again. _I've lost Spike._


	72. Chapter 71

**71**

"Bloody hell, woman," Spike swore as the light shone in his eyes. "What, you take this from an old movie or something?"

Harmony pouted, snapping her fingers to make the vampires tighten Spike's binds further. "So what if I did? They always shine the light on the prisoner before talking to him. It's tradition."

"It's sodding superfluous," Spike pointed out. "They do it so they can see clearer. You're a bloody vampire. You can see me just fine in the complete dark."

"Well… well…" Harmony seemed at a loss of intelligent words. Like _that_ was new. Bloody bint. He'd been shoved into this tiny room and forced into an old style chair that was mighty uncomfortable. Probably worse than the torture would be itself, sitting on the wooden thing. Would a cushion be too much to ask? Another thing he had noticed, wiggling his ringed finger, is that the ring wasn't working in here. Meant to 'pprise Jade of what had been happening to him or the chit would likely go off her gourd, as impatient and as worrisome as she was, but surprisingly, he'd gotten no answer. Some sort of magic damper, then. Or maybe they were out of range. Red hadn't specified _that_ part in the instruction manual, so Spike was a bit uncertain about the exact reasoning. Didn't really make a difference. Either way, there was no communication.

Meant he was on his own, left to the devices of Harmony. Didn't scare him much, even if she did threaten him with that stake once. Had him worried for his unlife. But he doubted the same thing would come 'round here. They couldn't kill him. Well, they probably wouldn't. Not without ticking off his 'mistress'. And she'd done what she could, Jade. Trying to act high and mighty and tough and callous. Like a proper ol' vampire. He should be proud. And he was. It was a tough act, and she was doing her best.

"Don't strain your noggin," Spike said insolently, as Harmony irritably tapped her long nails together, still searching for some worthy comeback. Knowing Harmony, that'd take a while, and unlife or not, he didn't want to wait for it.

With an angry huff, Harmony's hand shot out, glittery purple fake nails and all—and slapped Spike across the face. He sucked in his lower cheek, pursing in lips in a unbothered smirk. "Oi, don't hurt the goods. You might get an angry Slaypire on your tail. And from experience, I can tell you, she's a bitch." He winced a little then, at the severity of his words. Shouldn't have. It was an act, just like hers. Still, the moment the words left his lips, he made a mental apology to Jade. One she couldn't hear, of course, but there all the same. Probably best. She'd think he was going soft if he started saying sorry for something part of the act. She didn't apologize each time she roughed him up—although near enough. Nearly oozed with remorse each time she did it.

"Like I'm worried about Miss Bitch," Harmony retorted with faux confidence, although she did restrain from hitting him in the face again, instead poking him fiercely in the chest. "Ow," she muttered, half to herself, her eyes flitting over his torso for just a few seconds too long.

"Yeah, still as strapping as ever," Spike smirked, earning another slap, this time on his shoulder. "Ow, hell, you bint." He complained insolently, as Harmony straightened up, tilting her nose up like she was the Queen of Sodding England.

"Watch it, you. I have a lot of strength. Not that I'm going to waste any more on you." She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and snapped at her fingers to welcome muscle boys back in. Spike arched an eyebrow in contempt at the two lackeys, shrugging as he relaxed back into his bonds. "Now, now. Where is it." She tapped her foot impatiently and searched through her glittering purse, pulling out some index cards. "Here they are," She said brightly.

"You wrote them down?" Spike asked incredulously. "What, the questions were too hard to remember?"

"Shut up!" Harmony responded, annoyed and defensive. She awkwardly strummed the cards in her hands, as if not sure what to do with them now, and then cleared her throat. "Okay, _Spike_ ," She said, stressing his name in her 'get down to business voice', which didn't much sound different than her usual simpering tone. "I got some questions for you. You answer them and we won't hurt you. Much."

"Oh, no," He said mockingly. "I think I just wet my skivvies. Please no, spare the torture."

"Spike!" Harmony whined. "Just take this seriously, okay?"

"Oh, I am," Spike replied derisively. "Can't you tell?"

"Hook him up," Harmony pouted at her lackeys, and it was now that Spike felt it was fine to get a might uncomfortable. Metal bars on his wrists, with little cords going from them, bloody hell. This was going to be fun. All the pain without the punches. He wished for a second that Jade could had specified a tiny bit more, but he steeled himself to handle it stoically. Just a bit of electricity, it was no big deal.

In reality though, it hurt like a bugger. With a slew of curses dripping from his mouth, most of them too British for Harmony to appreciate, he snarked himself through most of the questions. Even knowing the answers, he wasn't going to pretend he'd give them up, lie 'bout them. He had a goodie two shoe soul now didn't he? And far as they were concerned, madly in love with Buffy. Which was true, of course. So he had to play the game. Which was take the pain until he felt like his head was ringing.

Could have been worse, he reflected as they finally let him out of the chair. In fact, he was nearly inclined to point out he had been let out easy. No serious burns, just a tingle that wouldn't leave his toes Likely a reflection of Harmony ruining the show. If they really wanted to crucify, they'd have put that Elijah in charge. He was a twisted bastard, Spike could just tell. As it was, it hurt, but didn't kill him. Hell, he'd suffered much worse at the hands of that Glory bitch. Maybe it was out of respect to Jade, or some other agenda. But it was mostly just seeing how much he was willing to give up. Which wasn't much. He played for the good guys, not for himself, and his lips were sealed, no matter how much Harmony pouted.

"You couldn't give me a single good tidbit?" Harmony complained, resorting to pleading, trying in her own way to display a face that she likely thought was attractive. It wasn't. Though Harmony's appeal had always increased when she managed to shut her gob for more than a couple minutes. "Make me look good?"

"I got nothin'," Spike said as he rose to his full height. He immediately cursed as one of the vampires whose name and face he hadn't bothered to memorize, punched him in the stomach. He hunched forward then straightened back up, giving the perpetrator a right intimidating glare. "Arse hole."

"Fine. If you're not going to be any help. Then whatever. I guess we'll just have to use you as leverage."

"Big word for you. D'ya even know what it means?"

"They're going to have to pay a _really_ big ransom for your ass, I'll have you know."

"My sexy arse, you mean." It was easy to fall back into this charade with Harmony. The churlish, self-centered personality that was so easy to display in front of her, because that was all that was expected of him. Nothing but to be an wanker.

"Yes—no. Okay, well, yes." Harmony admitted. "Just because I don't like you, because you're a terrible, terrible person," She waggled her finger. "But you kinda do look sexy, I guess." She humphed.

"Oh, I'm aware." He smirked with as much dignity as he could manage, from all the little aches and soreness he felt in his muscles and his body. At least they mostly did avoid his face, so it wasn't like he had cuts and blood all over him. Be less cocky that way.

"Pig," Harmony said, exasperated. "Okay, take him back to his room, or whatever. I might just stake him if I get have to spend one. More. Minute. With. Him." She let out a aggravated growl that didn't at all hit the mark of intimidation, and more sidled around the annoying kid tantrum spectrum. But he was pushed back down some corridors, too many for him to memorize, although he did his best, and back to the elevator. Man, it was a bloody twisted building for the single elevator he'd seen. There must be more, but the inside always looked the same when he went in. Probably more magic mojo. Seemed like they couldn't get a single thing done without magicking something nowadays. Bit over his head. That technology stuff too. Not that he ever wanted to be accused of being stodgy and stuck in his old ways, but he was never that concerned with acclimatizing over his years as a soulless vampire. Just liked killing things. Shock weapons and bullets made it damn annoying, not to mention that bloody chip they put in his head, but it'd be fine for a while. Strength was all he needed to find his meals.

Was a changing world now, without a doubt.

He was pushed, not gently, back towards his room. They'd attached handcuffs to his wrists to contain him a bit better, which caused Spike some stroke of pride. 'Least they didn't forget he was still a bloody animal and not to be trifled with or underestimated. Although it hurt in the way that he and Jade didn't want them to suspect anything before they busted out of this place, and being pathetic would at least avert the eyes a little.

When he approached the room, he could hear it again. It wasn't clear, like when she thought directly to him, instead it was a mumble-jumbled mess, a demoralized whisper. It wasn't so much words as two words. They were hard to hear, disorienting him more than anything, but he could hear it as he neared. _Lost. Spike_. They repeated, hitting him not with strength of thought but with a twisted anguish that sunk into his gut. They reached the closed door, with one of the vampires thumping on the door and calling in.

"Come in," A whisper was heard, and then a clearing of her throat as she repeated herself. "Come in," trying to sound louder, tougher, but there was a weakness in her tone that Spike hadn't heard in the time she'd been here. Something akin to defeat. No, bloody well was defeat. And the door swung open, and there was Jade, still sitting on her bed. The room, however, was a mess. The barely used furniture—the ignored bookshelf and whatnot that was there for useless decoration—was broken, pieces of wood on the floor. And there was Jade, looking towards them. She stumbled, somewhat ungracefully—which was a right out of turn for her—to her feet. Her face was human as she gazed at the vampire escort, and her eyes, when she looked at Spike, were large, wide. Like bottomless wells as she stared at him. Relief, fear, melancholic, all the emotions mixed around in those large blue eyes, and he realised that she was utterly flummoxed. Frozen to stone, more like. Unable to keep up the charade in front of the escort. And as inconsequential as they likely were, couldn't afford to take chances.

 _Vampire face, luv._ He reminded her. She winced then, as if slapped, but dutifully, her abstracted, sad features slipped away, blue eyes becoming gold. Not that she needed the show in front of these lackeys, but she had a easier time keeping her façade together with a built-in mask. Helped her remember who she was trying to be. Wrinkles creased across her ridged forehead, and she turned her gold eyes towards the vampires who had led Spike in.

"Mistress Kendall asked us to return the captive." The vampire to Spike's right audibled. "She thanks you for your—"

"Fine." Jade waved her hand in dismissal. "You can leave now." Her short, quick sentences were abrasive enough, and the vampires, no stranger to being treated like scum—soulless, here, vampires weren't known for their bloody group hugs—nodded in respect and swiftly departed the room. The door shutting behind them was distinctly loud, exacerbated by the fact that Jade had yet to say anything to Spike directly. Her vampire face had faded immediately, replaced once more by those eyes. They weren't intense, startling green eyes that captured him. Instead they were large, wide, endless pools that held so many words he had a hard time finding his own.

And he always had words to say.

"Are you hurt?" Jade finally asked, quiet. She stepped up to him, and he could damn well see it. That mask flitting back over her, wrapping whatever she wanted to say in a unreachable veil.

"Just a bit o' shock therapy," he responded with ease, trying to play it with nonchalance. "Went a bit easy, if you ask me. Chumps must have been scared out of their skivvies to try anything lasting."

Mute, her hands went to his wrists, where the solid manacles still restrained his movement. Her fingers, cold, touched his ski. He must have been a bit warmer, with the electricity and all, or it was colder in this room, so much that even he noticed the temperature difference. Her fingers curled between his skin and the iron, and with a tremendous display of strength, she peeled the cuffs off his wrists as if they were made of clay. They fell to the ground with a satisfying clunk, and he felt along his tender skin with gratitude.

"Much 'preciated," He smirked. "Really did a number on this room," Spike commented, looking at the display of destruction. He meant it as a light comment, but Jade didn't respond or move. He noticed she wasn't looking at him much either, like he was a ghost she could see through. Seeing as he _had_ been a bloody ghost, it wasn't a situation he was wishing to recreate. "What is it?" He asked, his voice lower, serious now. Something wasn't right, and he was kicking himself about it. Had something happened while he had left her with Elijah and Kern? His teeth gnashed at the thought. She seemed so visibly shaken that something must have been the cause of it, but what the bloody hell it was he had no idea.

And that scared him.

"It's been hours," She answered in a hollow whisper, and then her blue eyes traced to his hand. "The telepathy link wasn't working." She said it as a statement, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah, bloody hell," Spike said wryly. "Some sort of magic-void room, maybe. Or there's a distance limit we didn't know about. Red certainly didn't mention _that_ in the—"

"I thought they might have killed you." She confessed, then, her words increasingly soft. So quiet, it strained even his vampire hearing. He realised then, that they'd been talking aloud this entire time, but he wondered if her recent destruction of furniture had been to discover if there were any listening devices hidden in their room.

 _Well, they didn't,_ he answered lightly. _Still here. And in one sodding piece. A bit sizzled, but I'll unlive. And look. Our little Professor X direct phone line's still peachy._

Jade nodded. She'd taken a step back from him after releasing him from the manacles, but there she was, about to retreat, and his hand shot out, reaching for her wrist like the chains had trapped his own. Although, again, she could have gotten out of _that_ quite easily, but she stopped, thudding in place like a slab of stone.

"What is it?" He murmured. "Bloody hell, woman, what'd they do?"

"Nothing." She said, shaking her head. Her mouth opened, teeth gritting as she let out a shaky breath she didn't need. Her eyes were half lidded, glancing at the near ground so she didn't have to look at him, but he saw it—the shimmer of unshed tears. He tightened his grip then, his other arm reaching out to hold her upper arm, trapping her.

"Sodding—tell me." He urged.

"They didn't do anything," she insisted, her eyes flickering up to meet his for a second. Her eyes were never bluer than when tears threatened to fall. His hand still gripped her wrist, and he could feel it, the light tremors. Her hand was trembling.

"Bloody—"

"I _told_ you," she exclaimed, loud, and she flinched, pausing. She closed her eyes, her fingers flexing as it seemed like she was trying to get herself together. "I thought—I thought—" She shook her head. "I thought they killed you." There it was. Yeah, she said it, but he hadn't realised that was what had her shaking like a sodding leaf. Her overwhelming strength was momentarily forgotten. She looked so small and vulnerable, and he felt—he didn't know. Grateful, somehow. A spurt of selfishness. Grateful, for one second. So often throughout his unlife he'd been treated like scum of the sodding Earth. And now, Jade. He realised the emotion she had felt was terrified, and it had been because of this.

"They didn't. Barely even hurt me. Useless sods." He tried to comfort her as she closed her lips, biting the bottom one, squeezing her eyes shut once more.

"I know. I know now. But Spike… I was afraid. I'm still afraid. They could have—and I wouldn't have been able. All I could do was _sit_ here, and I can't—"

Bloody hell, screw it. Screw the fact the ingrates might have their sodding ears pressed to the wall or there was some camera she must have missed. This was Jade, and her nerves were shot. He pulled her then, towards him, and after the briefest of hesitations, she let him, falling into his torso as he wrapped his arms around him. Sods, the woman was trembling all over.

"Wouldn't leave you here by yourself," He promised her, touching his chin to the top of her head. Her arms were folded between them, like a protective shield, and she was so small, although seemed to him that the strongest women came in such slight packages.

"We've got to get out of here, Spike." Her voice was muffled into his chest. "I don't know how much longer I can take it."

"We will," He comforted her. "With all our bits intact. We'll get the bloody hell out of dodge."

Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh, but she was no longer shaking, calming under his touch. And when had he started stroking her hair, the silky brunette tresses. He shouldn't be comparing them, these short stubby locks that he'd cut himself, and she still hadn't retouched. The choppy edges that fell between his fingers, feather soft and light. And her form, slimmer, felt fragile under his touch, even if he knew the opposite was true. She would not break.

Planting her forehead to the middle of his chest, she straightened herself, dipping her chin in a few solid nods. Telling herself that she'd be alright, he could guess. Knew her like that, knew that even when she stepped back and freed herself from his grasp, those sparkling blue eyes looking back up at him, she wouldn't be letting any more tears fall. She disentangled herself from his grasp, standing on her own, but giving his fingers the lightest of brushes with her own. Gratitude.

And her eyes, still meeting his, with all the colors of the bloody sky, she stood before him with dogged, sodding determination. "With Lily. And everything we need. We're leaving with her."

"'Course," he agreed, to reassure her. Was no doubt 'bout that. They couldn't leave her there, at the bloody mercy of these wankers, where they'd likely move her somewhere else or just drain her dry.

"Then we start now."


	73. Chapter 72

**72**

 _Alright, so what's step one, again?_

 _Get the keys_ , Jade answered.

 _You distract then, with your wiles. I'll sticky fingers this bloke._

 _Do I even want to know what that means?_

 _Bloody hell, woman_ , Spike returned, affronted. _Don't insult my manly honor._

 _Distract. Got it._ Jade answered, hiding a smile. This was easier. This was focused. A single plan to carry out. And Spike's nearness didn't hurt either. Seeing him within arm's length was the reassurance she needed to concentrate. Her anxiety attack from earlier was forgotten, and the important thing was now.

Getting the hell out of here.

So no more thinking about what the worst outcome could be. She leaned into their envoy. Harland'd returned with a vengeance, just as simpering and venerating as ever. So look at the ridges of his face, and what… flirt? Not exactly a well-practiced weapon. And how was a evil, soulless vampire was supposed to flirt anyway. Smack his head into the elevator door? Was that expected foreplay?

 _Time's a ticking,_ Spike's annoying reminder sounded in her head. Except not annoying, not even close. There was such a comfort to it now, hearing him in her head. She'd first resisted it, been averse to it, but the hours where she had been without it made her realise how much she depended on it. On him.

"Harley," Jade said loudly, a bit too much Harmony in her tone, producing a whiny, simpering sound that promptly turned her stomach.

"H-Harland," The vampire answered her with an eager smile, lips parting around his elongated fangs.

"Whatever," Jade shrugged. Still too much Harmony, with the eye-roll and all that. But perhaps it was best to impersonate the blonde as she leaned in towards him. "So how do you feel about this gig, Harland? All cracked up to what you'd thought it'd be?"

Perhaps she'd gone a bit too strong on the young slang there, because the vampire blinked, nonplussed, and she could hear Spike stifle a snort. And not too well. She smothered the urge to shoot a glare at her blonde haired companion, realising instead that he had come into position, behind Harland, and the obliviousness of their key-holding escort. Just waiting for the door to ding, the elevator to open. They'd been called back to the same floor as last time, when they had seen Lily and they'd seen the map table.

And of course when they'd carted Spike off to that interrogation. He'd tried to describe the walk along the corridor, but there hadn't been any handy information to help either of them.

She'd been trying not to think on it. Out of necessity, really, because it had left her in a bad way. Her throat threatened to close up and her stomach switched upside down reliving those moments. Those long, long hours where she didn't know if Spike was dead or alive. And her relief, palpable and overwhelming when she had seen him standing there. And a deep, deep seated shame at how useless she'd been rendered, thinking he might have been killed. Thinking that she'd be abhorred by him, knowing how much she'd inflated the situation, choosing to think the worst and just how she fell to pieces. But he hadn't berated her for it, reminded her of the mission and how she had to stick to her guns or something more British in case something _had_ happened to him. Instead, he had just held her. Increasing her self-pathetic feelings, but comforting her at the same time. He'd done it with compassion, because even if she was no Buffy, he cared for her. They cared for each other, friends, partners. And that was a comfort. Enough of one.

And now it was time for them to get the hell out of here. Over the last couple of days they'd been snooping more, getting a few names of the ones the vampires wanted to turn, although most of them were the obvious choices. And it was no definitive list by any means, but it wasn't an easy thing to push for. And in that time, two more lights on the Potential map had gone out. Jade's heart sank each time, but Spike convinced her that there was nothing they could do.

Willow had been quiet, since her first check in, there had been nothing else since. They couldn't warn her otherwise, and Jade knew it frustrated Spike. He'd mumbled about it more than once, saying if the Witch had promised such a thing then she should 'bloody well keep it up'. Jade knew that Willow hadn't forgotten about them, so if she wasn't reaching out to them, there must be something else going on, something big.

It made her even more eager to get out of here, to reconnect. She felt like she was in a bubble. There were no phones, computers for the vampires to use. To better protect what kind of image they sent out, Harmony said. Well, not in quite that many words, but Jade assumed that was the gist the blonde had been going for.

"Yes. I am… honored to serve." Harland answered. Despite all this time with vampires, a week straight with no sight of a human face except for Elijah, Spike and Lily, she hadn't gotten any more used to them. Still thinking they were monstrous, those bumpy foreheads with built-in frowns, the yellow of their eyes, and those large teeth. And she was still carrying that façade, which didn't help her feelings much. She didn't feel flirtatious at all when she gave Harland a coy smile—which was probably more like a grotesque grimace, but he didn't shudder, instead eager to lean back towards her.

"I mean, it's such a frontier idea that you guys are pushing," Jade continued. Too high school. Not vampire-without-a-soul enough. God, when did this part become more of a chore than acting like the evil undead. She had a better time with that then pretending to flirt with this snivelling vampire. She wondered what that said about her, and then decided it was probably best not to think on it for too long. "Bit cowardly, though. What with the lack of neck-snapping."

Harland's chin went up and down like a bobble-head toy in fast agreement. "I do miss it," He said mournfully. "Hunting down them in the street and feasting on them while they screamed." He licked his lips, and it was all Jade could do not to blanch. The doors dinged, and Harland turned the keys to open the elevator door, then stuffing it back in his pocket. Time to go into the kill. Well, if only.

"Maybe it won't be forever," She smirked, leaning in with a condescending yet still sympathetic tone. "If we got new management, that is." Let him think she was planning a coup, or something, the vampire was still grinning fiercely at how close she was. Spike was still there, reaching forward, so she reached forward and draped two fingers on his shoulder, trying not to appear like she thought he was radioactive. "Don't you agree?"

"That'd be…be so nice," Harland concurred with a dreamy smile.

 _Done_ , Spike's voice sounded in her head, and she heaved a silent sigh of relief. Even her own vampire ears hadn't detected the jingle, though she'd raised her voice to muffle the background on purpose. _Unless you'd like to continue, that is. Bloody swell job. I think he might be picking out names for your turned children now._

Jade shot Spike a glare, wanting very much to give him a hit on the head, just a soft one, but one he definitely deserved, the way his lips were twisted into that laughing smirk, patronizing her. _Just because it's easy for_ him _flirt with everyone woman in the world…_

 _What was that, luv?_

Fighting back another extremely aghast look as she realised that he had probably heard that, and if she had another time to die for humiliation, she'd probably puddle to the floor. As it was, she had to turn her attention back to Harland before he remembered the white-haired thieving vampire behind him who had just stolen his keys.

"Yeah, well. Hurry up already. They asked us ten minutes ago, and you're wasting time." She snapped, fiercely, and although it always felt like kicking a dog, being that rude to someone under her, it was necessary, and certainly, Harland picked up his pace, stuttering out an apology. Spike fell in line beside Jade, that cocky smirk still on his face, and she resisted the urge to elbow him. Had to resist that urge a lot since she'd become a vampire, because even a little jerky movement could send him way further then she meant. As it was, he'd done well, and they were one step closer. However, as soon as Harland realised his missing keys, that'd be a problem, but they weren't wasting any more time. This meeting with the 'wicked three' as Jade had dubbed them, or 'bloody wankers' as Spike called them would hopefully get them near Lily again. Get Lily, take what they had of the list of vampire targets, destroy the map and get the hell out was their plan. She should have been more scared, but Spike wouldn't let her be. He'd been comforting and reassuring, going over their steps over and over again. Never told her anything but that she could do it, and damn it if she wasn't starting to believe him.

As long as they were together, they could do anything.

Didn't mean her nerves weren't completely satiated, that she didn't slip into a moment of panic when she thought about just how daunting her task was, and how she sorely missed Mission Impossible music blaring in the background, and a bunch of rapid cut scenes would be so much easier than having to go through every second by second herself, hoping and praying that it would all go smoothly.

Otherwise they'd have one hell of a fight on their hands.

She knew Spike wasn't opposed to it. He'd taken as little liking to the three as she did. Most of his anger landed on Elijah and Kern, while his annoyance was centered at Harmony, and Jade was the same way. While she wanted to teach the blonde a lesson, she didn't dream up ways to kill her like she did with Kern and Elijah. The thought of Elijah with helpless, whimpering Lily, revelling over his power while the Slayer could do nothing but cry as her blood was taken, that burned Jade's blood in a way few people had.

When she'd been turned, she had hated Mandy. But she'd killed that Slaypire, gotten her revenge. She might not get it here, and she knew that. Survival was more important.

They'd turned the corner and approached the room, if it was a different door, Jade wasn't quite sure. This damn place was like a maze, a thought that did not comfort her, even with the keys safe in Spike's pocket. And she had offered to take them back when they'd first come up with this part, because she was less likely to be checked. But he of course, with martyrdom but also infallible and infuriating wisdom had reminded her that it wouldn't derail the whole thing if he was found with the keys the same way she was. He was a prisoner, he was expected to try to escape. She wasn't. He at least had an explanation. Still, what they'd do to him, she had shivered to think of it, and then steely determination had overtaken her instead. She wouldn't find out. She wasn't letting them take him away this time. If it forced their hand early then so be it. She'd bust down every since wall in this maze place until she found Lily, and she'd take that girl out on her shoulder if she had to.

As it was, they had a couple hours until they could rush any escape attempt. Sun hadn't set yet, and Spike was adamant in waiting until it was down, risk or not. Jade was too sensitive to the sun, and he wasn't going to risk it, not even throwing a blanket over her. Made her feel like a liability, but he was right. He'd had over a hundred years to build up his resistances. She had months, and it was barely anything. Sun lit her on fire, and that was the truth of it. So even though it was more dangerous to go at night, where all the vampires were up and about, they didn't have much choice in that matter.

"Come in," A voice called as the doors swung to allow them passage. Not the meeting rooms from previous times, there was a table in the middle of the room, but not the map table, and a lieu of tv screens set up in the room. Definitely seemed like one of those Matrix-ish back room set ups or something like that, and Jade noticed that a few were set on news stations, actively discussing vampires. It had definitely blown up the internet over the last couple of months, though due to her and Spike's self-imposed isolation, she'd missed most of it. She tried not to cringe at some of the supportive rallies shown. Seeing as all she expected and had received since becoming a vampire was wariness, somehow the thought of venerated didn't comfort her much either. More the opposite.

In the room there was a vampire sitting at the desk, headphones on and tapping at several keyboards with Data-style speed. Alright, not that fast, but compared to a human it would be respectable. He didn't look up at Jade's entrance, likely didn't even notice, fingers still flying furiously. There were several monitors there as well—a gamer nerd like Jade's dream come true, and it looked like the vampire was—blogging? Now that was a weird image. She supposed that was the way to be now, if they wanted to get their opinion out there, but it was still odd seeing the on-the-plump-side vampire in a rumpled dress shirt doing a very humanlike job. And there was Harmony, half over his shoulder, her styled blonde hair cascading down in gentle waves as she snapped her gum loudly at him.

"Make sure you mention me again. Like here. Something about her golden hair and dazzling smile…" She pointed vigorously at the monitor as the vampire glowered at her. He was middle aged looking, and didn't seem as much out of his age as so many of the vampires did, made Jade wonder if they had recruited him for previous technology knowledge. Seemed like most of the vampires' strengths were with literature—if they had any, that is, most of them didn't care about books after turning—or some touch of the supernatural, still keeping to magic. Not too many stuck to the computers with as much ease as this vampire did.

"I did already," The vampire grumbled, letting out a muttered curse as Harmony smacked the back of his head.

"Does three times seem enough for you? Does it? Really?"

"In a thousand word article about the suppression of vampires, yes," he muttered back, earning another smack and ever so helpful advice coming from Harmony about how he should be writing. It was almost amusing—no, it was amusing. If she was anywhere else, she probably would have laughed at the ridiculousness that was Harmony and the poor helpless gent who was mashing away furiously at the desire of a incompetent boss.

"Glad you could join us," said a cool, even voice, and there was Elijah, standing off to the side. Her eyes drew back to him, although she should have noticed him first. One thing she had noticed since turning is that she hadn't lost any of her Slayer abilities. They were still just as available to her as they had been when she was alive. Including her ability to sense vampires. She'd never been that well at tuning it however, especially friend or foe, or how many. And in this building, it was definitely always reminding her that they were around. But there he was, standing in another dark suit, his black eyes glinting in the half-light. Still in human face, as each time she had seen him, and yet it was still just as unnerving to Jade as if he had been in human visage. He was standing there, but Kern was missing.

"Batty forget to make it to the party?" Jade asked with obvious disdain. She wasn't sure if she was sounding like a petulant teenager or not, but she didn't want to be too polite either, so blatant disrespect would have to do.

"Kern will join us shortly," Elijah answered with ease, not bothered by her impoliteness. His dark eyes glanced from Spike back to her, and said a shrug, "Your pet can sit, I have something to show you."

"He's more like a prize," Jade responded haughtily, as unruffled as she could manage as she nodded to Spike, a cool dismissal, but the way his eyes met hers were anything but. Vibrant and blue, they were her gravity, keeping her grounded and focused. Not scared out of her mind about everything that could possibly go wrong, not about the stolen keys in his pocket, and how the hell could they find the Slayer from here? Her nervousness would have increased if Elijah had led her to an adjoining room, but he simply brought her over to a couple of the monitors. He tapped at it expertly, with more ease than she would have expected. She didn't know Elijah's age either, but he had to be older than Harmony to have such mutual respect with Kern. Or perhaps it was something else. She simply didn't know.

Elijah was slightly hunched in front of the computer, and she could have stepped closer, but even to maintain a cover, she couldn't bring herself to step nearer, instead watching from a distance that was on the very edge of polite. He seemed not to care or notice, bringing up a video. Her heart clenched a little as she recognized the face on the camera. Seemingly sweet—too sweet, and a soft heart, but with more vehemence than was easily seen on the surface, there was Vi. It was a news report, and she was talking in front of a reporter, very calmly, albeit awkwardly, but in a way that was endearing. Jade could only hope that the rest of the public thought so. Unlike most Slayers, Vi didn't bestow that feeling of intimidation or self-righteous. She was a little uncertain and unsure, but she was relateable. She had all the power of a Slayer, all the strengths and capabilities, but none of the narcissism. Someone the people could relate to.

She was the perfect face for the Slayers. Showed the innocent side, that these were women standing up to forces of darkness, not girls who needed to step back into place. The volume was up high enough that Jade could hear her words. Vi was talking candidly about the vampires, and warning people, only stammering a little when the reporters were too belligerent.

 _Take that_ , Jade thought triumphantly, hearing Spike's baffled reply instantly in her head.

 _Take what?_

 _Oh, nothing. Vi's on the TV, talking about vampires. She's doing a good job_ , Jade answered, only slightly flustered she'd let herself slip again. The thought hadn't really been directed to Spike, but he had caught it anyway, and she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder where she knew he was sitting. He'd struck up a mocking conversation with one of the mostly mute vampires in the room, but he was already ready to respond as soon as she said something, even mid-speaking. Jade certainly wasn't that good at it.

 _Good girl_ , Spike responded, a warmness in his tone. _Not the harmless li'l kitten she used ta be._

"Do you recognize her?" Elijah asked, his soft yet somehow always dangerous tone broke into her thoughts, and Jade snapped to attention, drawing her eyes to meet his. One. Two. Three, and she looked back to the screen again.

"One of the Slayers?" Jade asked, trying to sound bored rather than curious as to where he was going with it. "Haven't met her personally." She smirked around her teeth. "Luckily for her. But she's the speaker for those Slayers, right?"

"Correct." Elijah said, stroking his hairless chin, dark eyes flickering to the screen and back to Jade. "She is doing her best to build up a deplorable outlook of our people."

Like that was hard. Jade tried to keep the smug look off her face, the pride she felt as she saw Vi speak. She didn't know her well, had only met her in person a couple times, but she had treated her fairly, offered to include her in the group sparring lessons. It was mainly through Anya's fractured memories that Jade knew how Vi had been when she was younger, when the Slayers had battled the first evil. A lot had changed since then.

"Did you want me to kill her, then?" Jade offered up nonchalantly. At least it would provide them with a chance to leave the building at the very least. It was a good plan as any, and they'd make it work. Plus, it'd provide Jade with the intel that they _were_ planning on assassinating the charming redhead.

But Elijah was shaking his head.

"Why not?" Jade insisted, trying to appear affronted. "It'd be easy. Take her out of your way. Let them offer up someone else to take the stand."

"We have other plans in mind for you," Elijah answered then, and it was his turn to look smug. An icy feeling struck up in her then, like lightning fear of the way his dark eyes had centered on her, and there was something terrifying in his eyes, and the way he had spoken. Uncertainty mixed with alarm twisted her stomach.

"Like what?" She asked, not quite able to reach the mark of disinterest.

 _Jade_. His voice whipped into her head as her answer was given to her from a different source. A slam on the table pulled Jade's attention immediately, and damn the place she hadn't been looking, letting her attention be drawn to ahead of her. Where they had wanted it.

And now she was looking back at the table, where Spike had been sitting. Was still sitting—albeit now he was pushed down to the table, Kern standing behind him with a stake to his shoulder blade. No, not his shoulder blade, but right behind his heart.

"And there you are, Kern." Elijah said warmly, sinister. "Just on time."

"Bugger, wanker, ow!" Spike growled into the table as the Ancient vampire overpowered him, keeping the bleach blonde vampire pinned and unable to move. Jade felt her whole body freeze like ice, but damn it if she didn't react before she could think, her weight sinking to the balls of her feet as she tried to calculate how fast she could get to Spike before Kern could stake him.

A hand reached out and grabbed her elbow. Elijah. With a vicious snarl, she tore her arm from his grasp easily, turning her eyes back to Elijah.

"I wouldn't be too hasty," Elijah spoke calmly, not at all ruffled by how effortlessly she'd freed herself from him. "Move one step, and your 'pet' will be dust."

So there it was. The ultimatum. Jade felt sick, a lump rising in her throat. But she couldn't afford to look at the vampire struggling on the table, keeping her eyes on Elijah, with all the venom and composure she could manage.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Jade demanded. The room had gone eerily quiet. Harmony had stood straight from where she had been conferring with the techie vampire, and Kern hadn't said much more than a series of growls aimed at Spike. And Spike was swearing into the wooden table, soft muttered curses.

 _I'll get you._ Jade promised him. _It'll be alright._ Comforting him or herself? He didn't answer, and Jade brought her eyes to Elijah's, who waited expectantly.

"We've decided to decline your offer of partnership," Elijah explained coolly, easily, that perpetual smirk still on his lips.

"What?" Jade replied with venom in her tone.

"Yes," Elijah continued. "We decided you'd fit much better as a willing minion."

"That's not going to happen," She snarled back coldly. "You have nothing over me."

"Are you so sure?" Elijah's eyes flickered from her and then pointedly to Spike. Jade had shifted slightly so that she could see both Elijah and Spike. Harmony had flounced over beside Kern, and while she didn't have the same menacing, conniving look as the other two, she didn't seem upset, more nosy than anything.

Jade shot out the most raucous laugh she could manage. "You're nothing to me," She told Elijah coldly, acrimony lacing each word. "You're nothing but to be squished. I could kill you with one hand."

"Yes, well. If you do, Spike will be staked."

"I win, then. And you're dead." She was terrible at bluffing. Terrible. But she had no other choice. She had to convince them that she'd kill them all. "And I'll kill every one of you," She glanced to Harmony, and then Kern. And no partnership needed." Still, there was no fear in Harmony's eyes, and that scared Jade the most. The blonde was the easiest to startle.

"I don't think that'll be the case."

"You care for the captive," Kern growled, seeming quite pleased with himself. He was definitely no fan of Jade, and was obviously enjoying the increase in power. And damn his speed. That ancient vampire, even Jade wouldn't be able to reach him in time. He knew it, they all knew it.

"Go to hell," Jade scoffed. Don't be scared. Don't break.

 _Just kill 'em all, Super girl._ Spike's voice in his head. _No need to worry. I got batface._

A lie. That's what hurt. A lie, and both she and Spike knew it. The vampire was trapped. He had nothing up his sleeve that'd allow him to overturn a master vampire that had trapped him like Kern had. The stake digging into his skin. It had pierced his shirt already, and Jade could smell some of Spike's blood on the air. Not much, but the message was clear.

"Kill him, then." Jade said in a bored tone. "You'll have really, really pissed me off. I don't like coups unless they're led by me. So I suggest letting him go and working on a really good apology."

"Surrender," Elijah answered instead. "Or you'll watch him die."

"So what?" Jade snapped. "I don't care."

"She's lying," Harmony inputted finally. She'd reached over to Spike and touched his stiff blonde hair with her heavily manicured nails.

"Yes, thanks, Harmony." Elijah said with obvious sarcasm.

"Enough of this," Jade interrupted. "I'll kill you all. I offered you my assistance, but I won't be disrespected. You go against my wishes and kill my prize and all your unlives are forfeit."

"Surrender," Elijah repeated. "Now. Or he's dead."

"You dare defy me and your ashes will coat this floor," Jade snarled. Fear held her so tight if she had to breathe, she wouldn't have been able to. She couldn't show any of the tears that threatened to come to her eyes. Desperation fueled her, had her fingers curled so tightly into fists, her short nails were jammed into her skin. But she wasn't scary enough, not here, among these monsters and demons who knew so much more about the darkness than she could ever pretend to.

 _Just kill them_ , Spike urged in her mind. _Bloody hell, Jade. Stake Elijah. Just kill him. Kill 'em all._

Spike let out a shout then, half anger, half pain as Kern stuck the stake down into his skin, just the surface, but close enough to the mark that Jade felt her body go numb.

"Stop!" Jade shouted, trying to sound furious and not as frightened as she felt. "Don't you threaten me."

"Oh, but it is easy." Elijah said loftily, his eyes half-closed, pompous and so sure of himself as he mocked her. "Three seconds."

"I'll kill you," Jade promised coldly.

"I'm not so sure." Elijah said. "Two seconds. Stand down and swear your fealty."

"I won't do what you say." Jade said. "Whether you kill him or not. I'll kill you either way." She kept her voice level, but Elijah's smirk didn't falter. Not for even a second. He gazed back at her without blinking, without fear.

Everyone spoke at once.

"Just bloody kill 'em, Jade." Spike ground out, veins visible on his forehead as he vainly struggled against the ancient vampire. "Just do it!"

"She won't risk him dying," Harmony was saying. "She'll be good."

"Pathetic, and weak," Kern surmised. "Both specimens. They bend or be destroyed."

But Jade was only looking at one of them. The one who controlled it all: Elijah. "I'll kill you," Jade whispered. "If you kill him, I'll destroy you."

"It'll destroy you more," Elijah assured her. "One. Kern—"

"Jade, just rip the bloody wankers' heads off! Do what we came here to do," Spike cursed, loudly, as another shout of pain was torn from his throat.

"I—" Jade could only stare in horror. Had to, had to. Had to save him. Elijah was so close. Tear his head off. Rip the wooden table to shreds and stake the rest of the vampires. Kill every last one of them. Burn the building and leave it to ashes. Carry Lily out of here, destroy the potential table. Reveal to the world. She had to, had to. Had to get this to the Slayers. Do what she came here for. Couldn't allow herself to get captured by the likes of them. Not with the powers of both a vampire and a Slayer. Couldn't give that to the enemy. Should let herself get killed first. Stake herself?

Her thoughts ran like liquid, so confusing and jumbled and terrifying and she was running out of time, time, time, and no matter how much her vampire speed gave her time to judge a situation, she didn't have enough, and Kern was going to kill Spike, Spike. And she couldn't let that happen, she couldn't live without him, she had imagined his death but she couldn't live in that reality, couldn't, couldn't. This was Spike. This was the vampire who'd lived over a hundred years and killed two Slayers and had sworn his heart and his unlife to Buffy, and had given up so much and sacrificed so much and she had fallen for him so very hard, and what she felt for him gripped her so tightly in its embrace she was nothing without it.

She had fallen for him, and she'd known it, and she thought him choosing Buffy had broken her heart but this would shatter it.

"Kill him," Elijah continued coldly, as if slow motion, the words rolling off his tongue. With so much ease, so relaxed, he'd order the execution of Spike. And his own.

That was the barest of comfort Jade could give herself. Is that if she'd let Spike die, she'd kill the rest. They would all die.

But she couldn't.

Couldn't give up Spike.

"Wait!" She fell to her knees, hands up as if she'd look helpless. She felt helpless. "Wait, wait, wait, wait." Her mind was no numb she couldn't form any sentences. Just the one word, a plea. A mantra, going over and over and over. She might have said 'please' instead of wait, but she didn't know, didn't hear Spike shouting at her, or Kern's triumphant growl. Just stared, frozen at Spike, making sure he was still there, that he wasn't dust. Blood tripped from the wooden stake, but it hadn't gone deep. Not deep yet. "Okay. Anything. Just don't hurt him. You win." She had to look away from Spike then, the disappointment in his blue eyes, the frustration. She couldn't look at Elijah either, and his smug expression, so she looked to the floor. She felt her whole body tremble.

"I told you," Harmony insisted superiorly. "I told you she was in love with him. Frigging weird. I mean, yeah. I _get_ it, like, I loved him once, too, you know. They _say_ that you can't love without a soul, but I was like, really into him once. Just knew it, you know?"

"Shut your trap, Harmony," Elijah said, but he said it with a relaxed sigh, rather than furiously. "Look at me." He commanded. Jade knew to who the words were. Biting back the tears in her eyes, a mix of shame and fear and disgust, she slowly raised her gaze to Elijah. Found those dark eyes bearing back down at her.

"Don't look away this time," He instructed her quietly. Her stomach twisted, and she knew. Knew why he had this request.

"Bloody wanker!" Spike was cursing as Kern straightened him up, letting him stand instead of be crushed to the table, the stake still poised in place. Not that Jade thought they'd remove it, she thought numbly. "Jade, just sodding kill—" His words were cut off by a hand wrapped around his mouth, the dark one's clawed hand keeping Spike's jaw from moving with excessive strength.

"Look at me." Elijah commanded again, his cool, derisive tone filling her ears. His hand reached out and cupped her chin to keep it in place, like she needed the extra tether. She didn't blink, and though she knew it was useless, counted. One. Two. Three. And then higher. Then more. Long seconds, and then with a mocking laugh, he released his grip on her chin, letting her head snap back down as he did so.

"You were half right about our Slaypire serf, Harmony," Elijah chuckled coldly. "In love, yes. But not as a soulless thing. Somehow it seems another souled vampire has come into being." He glanced down at Jade, his smirk sinister and perverse.

"And now she's ours."


	74. Chapter 73

**73**

Another bloody cage. Not so white and fancy as the last one he'd had the bloody misfortune of being trapped in, but that distinction didn't make him any bit more chuffed about being captured again. These ones separated them by bars, just the three of them slotted into the wall. All ol' age and medieval looking, at least that jived with the normal vampiric persona. This whole bloody office building was a farce. But here, with the bars and cold floor, that was familiar. And he'd been it in for likely hours now, staring into the middle cage and the resident who sat there.

Waited her for to bloody stir so he could give her a well-deserved piece of his sodding mind. And she deserved it. Being in here hadn't tempered his anger down, not a bit. Just coddled it, and now it was burning fierce.

What the hell had she been thinking?

And that smug look on Elijah-the-wanker's face as they'd been carted away, that was the proverbial straw on the burning camel's haypiled back, or whatnot. And how bloody cowardly to fight like that. Pinned him down with a stake to his shoulder. Not even a good tussle. Been outdone by hundreds of years old batface, bloody fantastic. And his shoulder still stung something fierce, although the blood had dried, it still gave him a right pierce of pain each time he rotated it a l'il. Not to mention Kern hadn't been too gentle after accepting surrender, giving Spike a right hook across the cheek that could have rattled Spike's bloody ancestors. And it hurt like hell still, what he looked like he could only imagine. Like he lost a bar fight, except there was no sodding fighting _or_ drinking involved, which was a sad reality if there ever was one.

Bloody wankers.

'Least they'd left the rings, for now. Give Red a chance to bloody contact him like she said she would, but still, there had been nothing from the Wiccan. Not. A. Lick.

He was going to give her a piece of his mind too, he bloody well promised.

But first, it was Jade's turn. His eyes were so trained on her that the moment her head moved, almost imperceptibly little, at least to a human's eyes, he noticed it.

"Jade," He called to her. Perhaps it wasn't best to come out with insults right at the gate. Least give her time to waken from her forced kip. And her eyes flickered open first, groggy, confused. Unlike him, she hadn't been used as a punching bag, but it wasn't the marks on her body that he'd be worried about. It was how much movement she was capable of.

Not much, he noticed then, as though she could spin her head around—albeit slowly—she made no motion to get off the floor.

"Spike?" She whispered, voice hoarse. Scratchy too, and not quite hiding the panic that was no doubt building up in her. As it bloody well should be. This was no joke. They were in danger before? This was sodding worse. Much worse. No pretending they'd fooled them now, the truth was out, and they were at the mercy of very dangerous, powerful vampires.

Just because she wouldn't bloody listen to him.

"Right here," He said, still aloud. Letting her trace his whereabouts with his voice, and her face turned obediently towards him. Chit was cooperating now, but that didn't bloody well help them earlier, now did it.

"I can't move," Jade murmured, trying to keep calm. He could see it in her eyes, the way they skirted all over the place like an animal trapped in a corner, trying to search for a way out. Her teeth were grit tightly together, likely to keep that soft bottom lip of hers from trembling.

"Nicked you with some drugs. Spoiler alert: work just fine on vampires." He'd been at the mercy of those more than once. Electricity used to knock him out when he was the big bad, waking up in a white prison that had been the definition of a bollocksed up day, and when Dana'd stuck him with the same drugs used on her. That time he'd woken up with no bloody hands. Still traumatized the hell out of 'im, though he'd admit it to no one. 'Cept Jade. She'd keyed in to that little detail when they'd gone against Dana months ago. When he'd been half paralyzed with the paranoid fear that she'd stick him again and remove his hands. This time a bit more permanently. But Jade'd been there, to comfort him and to save him.

The sodding nerve, she had. Always there to save him. Well it didn't work this bloody time, did it. They didn't feel the need to drug him with anything—yet—but they were up the creek without a sodding paddle to stake any of these wankers with.

"Okay," Jade accepted quietly, closing her eyes and resting her head back on the hard floor. What, was she taking another nap? But no, she was just gathering her wits, for her eyes flickered back open a few seconds later. She'd abandoned her vamp face now. Abandoned it the minute her nerves had left her, and she'd been on her knees begging for Spike's life. Made him sick to see the smug, goddamn look on Elijah's face when he looked down at Jade, so sodding triumphant.

Made Spike roar like an animal, though he hadn't been able to do much. Not a bloody thing as Jade willingly accepted the needles and collapsed on the ground, without a single one of them bothering to catch her. It bloody well infuriated him, that they could overtake her so easily. And worse yet, that she had let them. The whole bloody thing could have been avoided if she had just listened to him. Just ripped Elijah's wanker head off, no stake even needed, such was her strength.

 _I think it's wearing off_ , Jade spoke up again, this time in his head. Using the rings she noticed they both still had. Her tone was carefully optimistic, though he scoffed. Yeah, Slaypire recuperation was something to be envied, but these were no cartoon bad guys. He was sure they'd thought of that. Wouldn't leave them here for very long, that was for bloody sure.

"Great," Spike scoffed, aloud. Couldn't quite display his acrimony without the accompanying sneer. "Well you just let me know when you decide to start being She-Hulk again and not the incredible white flag of surrender."

She bit the inside of her mouth, chewing hesitantly as she tried to come up with something to say. And now that she was bloody awake he wasn't giving her no bloody quarter. Looked like she was debating between giving him a retort or just letting the commend slide.

Not surprisingly, she changed the subject. Wasn't one for the heated confrontation, that one, not when she could avoid it. "Where are we?"

"In the sodding dungeon," Spike answered sharply.

"Just metal bars?" Jade asked again, quietly. She turned her head to try to look. Just bars, well, they were a thick bloody metal, too much for Spike's strength, although he remembered how she had peeled the manacles off of his wrists like they were liquid. Had being the operative word. She couldn't even move, the way she was now. He could see her, trying to twitch as the effects slowly wore off. It was more than just something to knock her out. Some muscle relaxant or whatnot. Not like he frequented hospitals or watched that stupid Grey's Anatomy show—okay, only once. Or twice. A couple times. He didn't like that sort of drama in real life, with all those teenager Slayer girls and their problems, but watching it on the telly, alright, he was a bit of a sucker for it. Still, it didn't embue him with much knowledge of the medical kind. He didn't know what exactly they shot her with, but it was wearing off. Hopefully.

"Yeah. An' we're in the basement somewhere. I bloody well guess." Spike continued derisively. "Sort o' hard to tell, what with the bag o'er my head as we were led here like a fancy present all wrapped up."

Her eyes closed again, and then opened, a vivid blue shining out as her eyes met his. "What is it?" She asked, still in that maddeningly calm voice of hers, and he wanted to shake the sense back into her, and maybe some goddamn movement back into those limbs so they could hurry up and do something, and not just sit here, sodding helpless.

"What is what?" He shot back, glaring at her as good as he could give, and to her credit, she didn't flinch. She hadn't managed to roll, but she had been put half on her side, facing him. Might have been a bit better if she had been turned the other way so he could yell at the back of her head and not feel guilt when she rounded on him with those puppy eyes.

"Why are you so—" She stopped halfway, that look on her face when she was trying to think of something diplomatic. Well, good sodding luck. Wasn't much could appease him right now. "Are you angry with me?" She asked instead.

"Obvious, is it? I'll try to dial it down some," Spike replied with dripping sarcasm. He watched her grit her teeth as she tried to sit up again, but to no avail.

"Why?"

"Why do you bloody think?" He snapped back, angry, loud. The ring on his finger forgotten, she deserved a good shouting-at. "You waltz into the lions' den, you're supposed to be somethin' just as dangerous, if not more. Instead, you play the act of the bloody lamb, and look at where it's gotten us."

She didn't blink, her eyes searching his face. He hated that look right then, that mixture of guilt and worry, and an intense concern as she flickered over his features. "There was no other way," She murmured quietly. Quiet, but her words sounded loud in the room, with nothing else but the irritable tapping of his ringed hand against the bars to break it.

"There was every bloody other way!" Spike exploded, angry with her quiet stooge routine. Her serenity just made him angrier. "You're faster and stronger than them. If you had sodding _listened_ to me, they'd be dust, wouldn't they."

"I'm not faster than Kern," Jade pointed out. 'Spose she was right about that. "Faster than a younger vampire, yeah, but even the speed I started with doesn't equal the centuries he has on me." He'd probably been the one to tell her that too, in the beginning, when they were trying to suss out exactly what a Slayer-Vampire entailed. Had that agility of a Slayer with the speed of a vampire, but she was right. That'd increase with time, and Kern had that in spades. More than she did. Still, he wasn't letting her off so easy. Not letting her think that giving up was a viable bloody option. It damn well wasn't.

"So bloody what," Spike growled. "He's faster but you'd destroy him with one sodding punch. You're stronger than all of them—you could have ripped off Elijah's head with your pinky finger." Maybe a bit of a exaggeration, but he was angry, and her placid, docile expression wasn't helping that.

"Yeah, I could have killed them all," Jade accepted with that softness in her tone, whispering more as his tone grew louder.

"Then why didn't you!" Spike shouted. "Sittin' in here like a present all wrapped up. Exactly where they want you to be."

"Because they would have killed you!" Jade snapped back. She couldn't sit up, but her shoulders bent with the explosiveness of her statement. No longer a mild look in her eyes, they sparkled like twin suns, a burning, smouldering blue that locked on his gaze and didn't look away.

"You don't know that fo' sure," Spike retorted irritability, hating the shame that he felt coil up in his stomach. There it was. The truth he had avoided. She could have killed them all. But she didn't. Because he came along. And she hadn't to, for exactly this reason. But he wouldn't let guilt take him, bloody hell no, not while this anger curled in his belly, and it was so much easier to deal with the anger than let the humiliation take route, the knowledge that he'd been a helpless git trapped to the table while she'd given up her freedom to keep him unliving.

"Yes, I do." Jade hurdled back coldly. "Kern's faster than me. He'd have staked you and that would be it," She was trying out fury too, keeping her tone steady.

"And that'd bother you, would it?"

Her face fell into a mask of dismay, shock replacing the outrage on her face, turning into disbelief, looking at him like he'd gone barmy. Well, might be so, but she'd flipped the gourd first.

"What do you think?" She hissed.

"I damn well think that you couldn't bear to let me poof into dust," Spike admitted, but the acrimony didn't leave his tone, even as her expression relaxed, no longer appalled, her brows resting back down instead of arching up in surprise.

"And you'd be right," Jade answered, but her voice had lost its steel edge, gentler now. But he wasn't about to let her off her guard.

"Why?" Spike growled then, his tone fierce but low. She closed her eyes, still as if she was a statue. The dim light played on her pale white skin, projecting a yellow tint that wouldn't be there otherwise, her hair more askew than normal, wild and unable to be tucked back. She looked harmless, docile, and he loathed it. He knew how strong she was, but she was just lying there, unable to move. Unwilling to speak.

"You know why," She answered in a whisper, eyes still closed, refusing to look at him.

"No, I bloody well don't!"

"I'm not saying it."

"Coward."

Her eyes flew open at that, with anger and indignation back in her blue depths. "Coward?" She repeated, turning her head towards him, and the guilt she instilled in him by the hurt he saw reflected in her gaze was paining.

"Waiting for Harmony to blurt it to the blasted world. If Harmony could notice that—"

"They don't know the difference between love and loyalty." Jade said stubbornly.

Spike let out a scoff. "Don' use that flimsy excuse with me. I'm not that bloody gullible."

"I didn't want you to come along!" Jade exclaimed. "Remember? I told you that—"

"You bloody skirted 'round the truth of it," Spike interrupted her just as fiercely. "You didn't tell me the whole truth."

"And why would I?" Jade snapped back. "I mean if it were the—"

Couldn't wait for her piteous stumble over her words as she tried to backtrack.

"I deserved to know!" Spike yelled at her, and to hell with them all, with their hearing, to hell if every single last vampire in the damn building heard them, he wasn't backing off. He shouldn't have found out like that, with Harmony saying it and Spike realising that the blonde was right. There had been no mistaking the look on Jade's face, and no denying it. She'd accepted it as truth and bloody well surrendered, and it wasn't right.

"I deserved to know that you're in love wi' me," Spike continued, as she had clamped her lips together. Thought he caught the glimmer of a tear, and bloody hell what a wanker he was to make her cry again, but he was so furious and he didn't know why.

"I—" She sucked in a breath she didn't need as she tried and failed to keep her tone level. "I'm, uh, I." She squeezed her eyes closed and opened them again. Her stutter should have enraged him further, that she was just stalling instead of just bloody coming out with the truth, but she looked so lost that he couldn't pull together the nerve to shout at her to get her words together. Instead, he just waited.

"I didn't think you needed to know," she said finally. Her voice was a raspy whisper, and he heard the words and barely understood them, feeling like the world was a bloody plate that had just tipped over. She wasn't denying it. Every other woman in his bloody life, Cecily, Dru. Even Buffy, for a long, long while.. They'd all shuddered at his love. Weren't willing to reciprocate it.

Never had someone admitted it first. Not to him. He'd been the one with his sodding heart on the line and each time he had watched it get crumpled and thrown back at him. Or admitted, right before he burst into flame. Even since being with Buffy again, she hadn't said it, and he hadn't pressed. Watched her tense a bit each time he'd whispered those words to her, sowing a bit more doubt into him each time. But here was Jade, tears nearly in her eyes as she whispered her declaration. Was she ashamed, then? He'd bloody well understand her reasoning for keeping it hush-hush then, if she was sodding appalled with herself to love someone like him. He could understand that.

But what he couldn't understand is why it made him so furious that she hadn't told him. She should have, damn it.

"Why?" He shot out again, with all the vehemence he could muster.

Annoyance crossed her features, exasperation flavoring her tone. "Why do you think? Why would I tell you? It's irrelevant. You're with Buffy, Spike. You chose to be with Buffy when she called you."

"You told me to go!" Spike yelled in reminder. And she bloody well had. Standing there, his phone still to his ear after Buffy had clicked off, telling Jade that Buffy wanted him back in San Francisco that night. Asking her for permission, really. She'd shrugged then, maybe a bit arrogant, assuring him that she could stay home and far away from everyone. That he had nothing to worry about, she didn't need a babysitter. And he accepted it. She'd told him to leave, to go see Buffy. She had bloody well told him.

Her expression turned sad then, consternation flooding her as she looked at him. "Why would I ever keep you from her? If that's what made you happy, then I wouldn't stop you." And she meant it. Bloody hell, he felt all twisted inside. This declaration had only confused him further than it had before, and all the anger had leaked out. He was just baffled now, torn. And here she was, in her soft little voice, telling him that she would let him be with Buffy even though she was in love with him. Just to keep him happy.

He'd never had anyone who loved him like that. Not ever. He'd been the one to give blindly, to give bloody everything. To drag his arse into the desert to try win his soul. To follow Dru all over the sodding world and try to give her each and everything she desired in the hope that she might love him like he loved her. Never had it just been handed to him.

And he didn't know what to do. Jade looked dazed now, and in his silence, he saw her slowly furling and unfurling her fingers, testing out her slowly returning motor control. She looked blankly away from him, and a long moment had passed and he still didn't know what to say. Fury had driven his words and now he was just perplexed. Didn't know what to say or do. His mind ran like fuzzy circles in his head, trying to sort all the information. No, wait it wasn't his mind that was trying to suss it out. His heart didn't know what the hell to feel about it, as stupid as that bloody sounded.

He was almost relieved when footsteps sounded outside the large room that held them. Almost. He was saved from having to answer, but he didn't trust these wankers, and whatever happened next would be at their sinister bloody hands, and he'd still take trying to figure out his twisted inside mess than deal with them. Particularly with Jade the way she was, still at their mercy. Alarm spread on her face, and he could see her hand trembling further as she desperately tried to make a fist. Not enough motion yet, and before he could say anything else, the door opened.

There was Harmony, skipping along with her big bouncer vampire escorts. He didn't see the snark, Elijah, or batface with her, but there was no fear in her step. There bloody well should be. He glanced at Jade again, but despite her attempts, she hadn't even managed to sit up. He reflected on the possibility it was a farce, and checked in with her to be safe.

 _Any more movement?_ Harmony smiled obnoxiously at them, her hair done in a ridiculously poofy style, dressed in a glittery dress coat and a pink dress as she tottered over to them on heels.

 _No_ , Jade answered him without bitterness, just frustration. _Maybe if they bring a stake over to my fingers and fall on it._

Her irritated comment was so wry it made him smirk, how she was chasing away her fear with humor, and he chose to forget, for the moment, what had twisted him so much. There were more important things now, and they had to be a united force.

 _I'll do my best to my best to work that hocus pocus, yeah?_ He returned, though it was just as unlikely they'd be that stupid. Still. He wasn't drugged like Jade was, and he was a hell of a bloody fighter. Had over a century of experience. He'd get them if there was a chance. They make a mistake, and he'd make sure it was their last.

"Rise and shine," Harmony trilled. "Well like. The opposite. Rise and darkness, I guess. It doesn't have that same ring so maybe, Rise and Dine? Oh my god, that's really witty. Since we feed in the darkness. Get it?"

"Yeah, dripping wi' wit." Spike said sardonically, and Harmony pouted at his tone.

"Jeez, Blondie Bear. Can you ever give a girl a break? You can let them out. Him first." She directed her companions, who moved easily over to Spike. His hopes were further squished when they slapped some iron manacles on his wrists, and he knew he couldn't depend on Jade to peel them off. Only one vampire was sent in her cage, and at her inability to walk, grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her up like the lightweight she was.

Automatically, Spike felt a growl leave his throat at the rough manner in the way she was pulled, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright. They didn't deserve to bloody touch her. The vampire who had put the handcuffs on Spike smacked him in a reminder to keep in line. Spike grunted but steadied himself, turning his attention to Harmony.

"She's 'armless right now. Let me carry her." Didn't mean to sound like it was a plea, just common sodding sense, but Harmony was smirking to herself, no doubt liking the way Spike was asking _her_ for something. Well, she knew first hand that he wasn't above begging. Gone to her with the white flag up when the blasted government had put that buggering chip in his head. It was that or starve, though it hadn't gone quite that well for him, as she'd chased him off with a stake in hand.

Harmony gave him a quizzical look. "How stupid do you think I am?" She complained.

"Prolly shouldn't answer that," He couldn't help but quip back, judging by her expression that he wasn't likely to convince her otherwise, and regret cut into him. Jade was very stiffly and carefully trying to hold her head up straight so it wouldn't roll back on the vampire who was holding her carelessly and ungently.

"I'm not stupid, okay. Got you all figured out, didn't I? And look—look who's in the chains and who isn't. You're in. I'm not. I'm the smart one here."

"Got me convinced," Spike answered dryly. His eyes barely left Jade's face as she was carried over near him, though not for long as Spike was shoved again, the intent being to get him moving.

 _I'm alright_ , Jade assured him. _Can move my toes._

 _And how are they with the stake grippin' bit?_

He was rewarded with the twitch of a smile around her lips when his attention was drawn back to Harmony again as she stamped her foot and exasperatingly motioned for her captives to be ushered out into the hall. He had more than a couple of quips in mind to shoot at her, but she was right. Not about being smart—hell, she was a bloody loon. But the two of them didn't look so good at the moment either. Spike was chained and Jade was still weak, with a body that wasn't responding, so where-ever they were heading—which Harmony was tightlipped, for once, about just what was in store for them, instead of her brainless babbling she normally indulged in—Spike was convinced it wouldn't be a bloody swell time.

The fact was, they were in trouble.


	75. Chapter 74

**74**

Waking up in a cage had been disconcerting, to say the least. It was so old-fashioned, these bars of metal that were struck up around them, and the room itself was more like a cavern than fitting with the rest of the building. Some underground basement they'd built, perhaps. The lights were far from bright, just a dim illumination that her eyes had to adjust to. She could smell the redolence of blood, fading and etched there over time. And more fresh scents that popped up, and she did her very best to block it out. Tried to block it all out, including Spike's smouldering temper that had hurt worse than the numbness spread all over her body. She couldn't move, not one bit, and the feeling of helplessness threatened to crush her.

Yet Spike's ire was still worse. She felt like a student, being vehemently chastised by her teacher for a crush that should never have borne fruit. He was so angry with her, it was all she could do to speak through the lump in her throat. Yes, she had given up. Surrendered, the moment Spike's life was on the line. She'd bluffed and failed, and now they were prisoners. She didn't have the stomach for it, for pretending like that. Apparently not the skill either, because they had seen right through it. If she had been better, like a vampire, if she had been more intimidating and fearsome, this never would have happened. If she had been by Spike when Kern had entered the room, she would have put a stop to his attempt and staked him in the process. Rule by fear. But she had failed in that, hadn't she. She wasn't scary enough, and now they had Spike. And her. And pretending that she didn't have a soul? That was out the window, but the thought that if they just checked her for her necklace, if they ripped it from her neck, that fear would be a reality so quickly, and it terrified her. She'd put them in more danger by giving up. She might not have saved Spike at all, really. There was no telling what would happen.

But he was alive. Or unliving, or whatever. If she hadn't acted before then he would have been dust, and nothing now would matter. But she still had the chance to save him, to get them both out of this, and it was all that was keeping her going. The only thing that mattered. Because without him, she wouldn't have cared anymore, and let them do what they wished. But not now. She just had to pull herself together and get them out of the mess she created.

And that was all she was concentrating on when the large vampire strode into her cage and picked her up like she was a limp doll. And she _was_ a limp doll, at least for now. She paid little attention to Spike and Harmony's banter, instead, focusing all of her concentration on trying to get her limbs to move. Needed to get some sort of motion in before they just stuck her again, or something worse. Her fingers tried to curl but it was like bringing them through molasses, resisting her every attempt to make them move. But she kept trying. Felt a vein threaten to burst at her neck with her struggle. And that was another thing. It'd been awhile since she fed. However long they'd been in the cage, she'd fed before the meeting, but her high metabolism didn't help her here, and she was hungry again. It was just a little reminder that she should eat something soon, but she shuddered to think what would happen if that voice went ignored. And she needed blood to get her strength back.

She felt her body sway as she was carried like Harmony might carry her Chihuahua, the vampire's arm around her as she was tucked into his shoulder and to his stomach, her feet not touching the ground. He was much taller than her, likely a foot over her 5'3 stature, although it bothered her to know that if she was at her full strength she could kill him with barely an effort.

But now she had to depend on the vampire to carry her. It was a humiliating change, but the shame of that was the least of the burden she carried. It was all for Spike. She hadn't even denied it, just admitted it so stupidly, and it'd made him angry. Made her sick to think about it, for all the responses she might have expected—and some she hoped for—that was the worst. But there was no taking it back, lest he call her a coward again. And that had hurt, the dig to her honor, that she was a rabbit with no spine. Even if it was true.

 _You told me to go,_ the words he had said resonated into her mind again. Not put there by their telepathic link but by her memory. He sounded so infuriated when he said it, an explosive charge. He sounded affronted, and she didn't know why he would be. He wasn't the one that felt like a fool. She winced just thinking about it. She'd admitted to Spike that she loved him. Hadn't said it in those many words, and she sure wasn't going to, but she'd gone out and admitted it. How much of an idiot she was. An idiot and a coward.

And half-scared to death as they led them through the halls. Back up into the elevator. From the way Harmony coyly dangled her keys in front of Spike led Jade to believe that they'd obviously found them on him earlier, after she'd been injected with that needle and promptly lost consciousness. She'd tried not to. Tried to will herself to keep consciousness and made up so many fantasies of her seizing control of the moment and turning the tables. But those fantasies had turned to dreams as the forced sleep had overtaken her. And Spike, looking back at her, a black eye and a bruise on his cheekbone, purpling on his pale skin. His blue eyes blazing indignantly, making her want to crawl into a corner of her cell and hide.

Of course, she couldn't even move.

She'd boasted of her strength, bragged that it was above Kern's, and look at her now. Spike and Harmony's continued bickering was white noise in her ears, with Spike's insults being deterred by Harmony's flouncing hair and unbothered replies. She was in power here, Harmony was. Spike and Jade were at her mercy, and there was no mistaking it. At least Jade could be comforted that Harmony wasn't the most creative of jailers, but she knew that the blonde wasn't the one behind it all. Just the figurehead, the pretty face they put on magazines and on the tv so the world wouldn't see Vampires as the dangerous, villainous creatures they were.

The ones standing before her as they were led into the room. The one with monitors and tv screens, the one where she had fallen to her knees and begged for Spike to be spared. The place of her humiliating defeat. So grateful she had no more blushes to color her face, she glanced down at her feet rather than meet the unnerving, complacent pale-yellow gaze of Kern, or Elijah's dark, smug eyes.

"So glad you could join us," Elijah said with false joviality, no mistaking the self-aggrandizing expression on his face. And he could have been handsome, with that dark skin, smooth chin, perfectly meticulous and form-fitting suit, the hard, straight edges of his jaw. He could have been handsome, but he wasn't. Looking at him instilled in Jade nothing but fear. And there, in the corner of her eye, she could see Spike being shoved to keep in even step with her, and somehow his lines seemed softer, the curve of his cheekbones, the pronounced bow of his lips, the straight edges of his jaw that seemed smooth, not harsh, and his mussed up blonde hair that was no longer stiff and gelled, but loose and more appropriating to the look of curls. Now he was handsome, contrasting Elijah in every way. Spike was pale, his eyes a cerulean blue, even his hair a faux white, he seemed like the angel in every story, the light to Elijah's shadow. And it wasn't just the colors. Even if Elijah's was lighter, there was no mistaking the darkness in his heart—or lack of one. He was sinister, through and through, and Jade had maneuvered both Spike and herself right into his hands. Bile rose up in her throat, a harsh taste mixing in her mouth, the taste of fear and nausea.

"Bugger off," Spike snarled now, no longer playing the part of the reticent captive. Jade was wholly grateful for this change, back to the balance of things, where Spike led the charge. She didn't want to pretend any more, pretend that she had such strong words to share, didn't want to try to think of something strong and intimidating to say when she could barely keep her thoughts straight. She had no wit left, nothing left to pretend. So she could stay silent, and act unaffected that way, better than trying to keep her voice steady.

"That's not a very congenial way to speak to your hosts," Elijah responded, but there was no acrimony in his tone, just nonchalance, as if Spike's bluster mattered very little to him, did nothing to intimidate him or impress him in the slightest.

"Show respect," Kern growled in his short, clipped way of speaking, as if long sentences had been far gone to him for the last centuries or so. "Worms."

"Show you a soddin' worm, mate." Spike shot back. "Where's a bloody vengeance demon when you need one," Spike added in a mutter under his breath, and Jade only barely glimpsed the reference, from her fractured memories bestowed onto her from Anya. She imagined Kern as a sluggoth demon, and found it didn't decrease or improve his looks either way. Still, it didn't matter. No vengeance demon was coming to save them, and unless Willow checked in, no-one else was going to either.

"Hope your stay hasn't been too uncomfortable," Elijah said with barely contained amusement. He loved this, the obvious difference in power. Jade saying nothing as she bit back the urge to fidget. At least she _could_ fidget. She felt her leg muscles returning, able to clench a little at command, and she thought she might be able to rick herself in the undignified way the vampire was still holding her, upright like a stick, but she wasn't going to struggle until she could do more than just give herself away. And then she was going straight for a stake and aiming for some hearts. As small as they were.

"Get to it," Spike demanded with vehemence. "What do y' want from us? If you got nothin' then send us back to the dungeon so I don't have ta look at your ugly mug."

"You're so rude, blondie bear," Harmony said mournfully. "I don't think that soul made a bit of difference, really."

"As it stands, we don't have much use for _you_ ," Elijah said pointedly at Spike, and Jade felt her insides run cold, but she relaxed only a little at Elijah's continuing words. "However, you're useful keeping her in line." His dark eyes focused on her, and though she no longer had to be careful about the three second rule, it was still hard to hold his gaze and she found herself looking away, suppressing a shudder. "How interesting that you proposed yourself as the one on the leash," Elijah was speaking to Spike again, in that cool, amused voice he had. "When the opposite is true."

"Wanker," Spike said in as curdling a reply as he could manage. It didn't hold the same weight. There were no threats that Jade and Spike could throw at Elijah that came anywhere near the ones they'd received. They were powerless here, and running out of leeway to pretend otherwise.

"What did you want?" Jade asked finally. She meant to sound petulant, defiant, even, but her tone sounded resigned, tired, and she was. Sleep wasn't sleep the way it had been forced on her, and her body was beginning to ache as it was slowly returned to her. Abuse of being tossed around like a ragdoll, likely, and sleeping on a stone cold floor. Healing was slower without a generous amount of blood, and her body was working rapidly to free her of the drug's effects.

"That sounds better," Elijah smirked with triumph as Spike shot her a frustrated glance. He could play games with them, but she wouldn't risk it. Get to the bottom of it first.

"Learning their place," Kern rasped in similar enjoyment. She closed her eyes for a long moment, finally feeling the pressure around her torso from the arm squeezing her as motion and feel slowly came back to her. Too slowly.

"We have a task for you to do today," Elijah responded easily, as if he was giving out assignments to the class. He fished out a piece of paper from the table and then nodded to Harmony, showing the tolerance one would have with an irritating child as Harmony flounced towards Jade, her glossed lips tightening into a pleased smile.

"This part was my idea. I even wrote the script. Well, like. Most of it. And then someone went over it. And fixed some spelling mistakes. Not that there were many. Like three. I would never be a dweeb in school, you know. I mean, I went. Like most of the time. And I would'a graduated, but—"

"Harmony," Elijah warned. "If you're going to prattle—"

"No, no. I'm strict business now. Promise," Harmony insisted quickly. "Okay, Hog, put her in that roll-y chair there. And Joshua, get the camera." Jade bit back a wince, getting enough of the situation to dread what was upcoming, but still oblivious enough to increase her nervousness. She was lifted obediently and dropped into a chair that squealed a little in protest. She was across from the others now, a good, straight look at Spike. He was still pulling at his captors in vain struggle, but his eyes were clear as he looked at her. Sensing her nervousness, she heard his voice in her head.

 _It's alright, Super girl. Whatever happens. You're not alone. I'm righ' here._

Until they take him away. But they wouldn't. He was their bargaining chip. They knew she wouldn't agree to their demands if anything was to happen to him, and that was her only source of relief.

"Alright," Harmony said as the man behind the camera was setting up and they danced around the cords to refrain from tripping them. There was a mic as well, held near her, although it was far from a sophisticated set up, it was close enough, with Harmony snapping at them to be perfect. When they were settled, Elijah, far from patient, passed the paper to Harmony, who then held it up to Jade. Jade glared up at the blonde. Somehow, it was easiest to be defiant to Harmony, the one that scared her the least.

"How am I supposed to hold that?" Jade snapped, jerking her chin towards her mostly immobile hands. "With my teeth?"

"You're supposed to read it," Harmony pouted, shaking the paper in front of her face. "Hog can hold it for you and you can read off the lines."

From the way it was being shaken around, it was hard to read, but Jade's eyes focused, and she skimmed through a few lines. A script it definitely was, and she tore her eyes away and looked innocently back at Harmony.

"Sorry. I don't know how to read English."

A slap then, across her cheekbone, almost immediately, as Harmony had nodded to the large bodyguard, Hog. Jade winced, the cold aching pain almost a relief to be felt so clear, but she felt better. Defiant, even, instead of the white-bellied coward that Spike had accused her of being. And she was strong here, glaring back up at Harmony and refusing to relent.

"Maybe if you get it in Indonesian?" Jade suggested innocently.

The hand raised again, and this time she was knowledgeable enough to wince beforehand, but the hit never came. She had steeled herself for nothing when Elijah's voice cut through the air, sharp as steel and as cold as it.

"Enough. You're wasting time, Harmony. If you want her to cooperate, threaten her beloved." He spat the last word like it was a curse, like a mockery of the true meaning of the word. In demonstration, Kern struck Spike across the face, this time leaving cuts along the bottom part of his jaw. Blood contrasted Spike's marble skin, and he couldn't quite keep the groan from leaving his lips as the red crimson dripped down his chin. Jade felt her stomach twist, and she closed her eyes to collect herself.

"Okay," Jade relented with a whisper. "Okay." Triumphantly, Harmony wagged the paper in front of her again, and Jade scanned it more thoroughly. She always loved reading, English had been her favorite subject while she had despised math, but the words weighed heavy in her today. "I don't see what the point of this is," Jade pointed out when she reached the end of the page. "It's not like I have any sway."

"Just something to add to our arsenal," Elijah said, his smirk back in place, as if it hadn't left. "Always good to be prepared. Maybe that was your failing."

"So the camera's going to turn on, and we're recording. Too bad I don't have anything to touch you up with," Harmony chewed on her bottom lip, speaking before Jade had a chance to. Not that it mattered. Any kind of sharp retort wouldn't help her here. Instead, she just stared dazedly at the blonde as she prattled on. "You look so dreadfully plain. And pale. Like really pale. But whatever, we'll just have to make deal," Harmony let out an exasperated shrug. "Hog'll hold the sheet so you can look at it. But make it natural. And enunciate."

"I'll try my best," Jade said, not quite able to hold back the sarcasm. She regretted it when she saw Harmony tense, but at least the blonde didn't order another beating of Spike.

"Okay. Put that light up there, Georgia, really. I shouldn't even have to tell you. You're casting shadows all over her face." Harmony's words faded as Jade scanned the paper once more.

 _How bad is it?_ Spike's voice sounded in her head.

 _Just the normal posturing._ Jade answered. It could be worse, probably, but that didn't mean she wanted to read it. _Slayers are bad, vampires are good._

 _That's not the worst, then,_ Spike agreed. _Bloody hell woman, I thought you were denouncing your mum or something_.

 _Still a betrayal,_ Jade reminded him. _If it gets aired—_

 _You're doin' what you have to, Slayer. Gotta play the part we're stuck wit' now._

 _Sorry about getting you hit,_ Jade couldn't help but apologize. Her own cheek smarted, but Spike looked worse. And she couldn't even see him now, not with the bodies in the way and the light blaring in her eyes. But her stomach tightened at the thought of it, and she had to at least say something.

 _Not now_. His voice, stern. Gentle enough, not angry, but firm. Keep her mind on the present, instead of apologizing about things she couldn't change now. He was right, of course, but it didn't help her feel any better.

"Ahem," Harmony cleared her throat. "Ready, like now. You can start when that little red light goes on. Right here." She tapped the camera with a well-manicured nail. Jade took a breath she didn't need to steady herself. She knew it'd piss them off if she stuttered or made a mockery of it. Or if she made herself out to be a Vulcan with no logic whatsoever, so she had to act from the beginning. Or they'd just hurt Spike for it. He had a right to be angry with her. She was playing into the enemy's hands, now, not even willing to fight back. It was pathetic.

Jade trained her eyes on the handheld camera pointed at her, the video recorder, rather, that was large but mobile, focused on her. The light went on, as Harmony said it would, Jade started reading, first in a monotone.

"I was a Slayer," She said. "And now I'm a Vampire." She went to denounce the Slayer Organization, point out their various flaws. Some of the things listed in the script were wrong, but Jade wasn't exactly going to interject with the truth. Besides, exaggeration happened in politics such as this. Still, she felt a twisting in her stomach for the words she said, pointing out the weaknesses of the Slayers and promoting the goodness of Vampires. Bitter lies, words like ash in her mouth, but she said them anyway. Perfectly, with not a single stutter or hesitation. Or Spike would bear the punishment.

"Slayers would have you believe that the Vampires are the enemy. They'd say that they rule the night, and are horrible predators. Yet, Slayers have free reign all hours of the day, and who watches them?" With more tidbits like that. Jade was definitely doubting that Harmony had even a speck of influence on this script. She might have wrote the 'use vamp face' in parenthesises part, to prove that she was in fact a vampire, and Jade did so obediently, letting her face change into the horrible yellow-eyed version that had yet to stop her from shuddering. And now it was on tape, for who knew how many to see. Made Jade sick, this whole thing did. Even if they were just words, and even if the others would understand—alright, at least Willow. Kennedy would take it personally, and Buffy'd hate the attack against her girls, and Xander would probably back her. So just Willow, then. The kindest of all of them, and the one that Jade had got along with the best.

 _Where are you now?_ She wondered, mid-reading another sentence. She'd meant it to Willow, if the witch was even listening, but Spike was there instead, calm and reassuring.

 _Here. Don't fret._

She didn't dare correct him, just took his comfort as it was handed out to her, continuing to read until at last, the blasted script was over. The words carried no meaning for her now, just more posturing, so tedious and long-winded that they'd likely cut some of it anyway, to get what they wanted. The red light turned off, and Jade slumped back in her chair, feeling drained. At least she could slump. Slowly, feeling was returning, and she could shuffle her feet. Move her wrists. Maybe she should have stumbled over the script a couple times, to buy her some more time to recuperate, but she had been so worried about Spike's wellbeing the thought hadn't occurred to her. She hadn't wanted to take that chance, so the possibility had slipped away.

She let out a quiet, relieved sigh as the camera was taken away.

"Awful," Harmony declared. "Like a robot. I guess we can't all be naturals in front of the camera." She tossed her hair, and Jade allowed herself to relax after the initial tensing. She hadn't meant Jade had done a purposefully terrible job and they had to do it again, she was just critical. That was alright.

"Bravo," Elijah said in his mocking way, his dark eyes glinting at her. She had to blink a couple times to help her eyes adjust as the bright light moved away from her. They'd let Spike sit back down at the table, and Jade realised there was a stake at all times positioned over his heart. She wondered if it had been like that since they'd walked in here and she just hadn't noticed. At least it proved they were still threatening her. Taking no chances and giving Spike no leeway in case Jade was fast enough to reach him before they could kill him. Unfortunate for her, since it wasn't giving her a chance, but she supposed it was a compliment to know that they still were wary of her, at least a little. Still, it didn't help her.

"So what now?" Jade asked, finding her voice had a hard edge to it. She was a patsy, yes, but she wanted to know what for, and she wasn't going to take the smirk from him any longer. No more being in the dark; she wanted answers.

"Nothing for the moment," Elijah said easily.

"She must be contained," Kern growled at his companion, who glanced back at him with an agreeable shrug.

"Yes. Seeing as the drugs won't work forever. They're already starting to wear off, correct?" Elijah's dark eyes centered back on Jade, daring her to disagree with him. His gaze was not forgiving, and Jade ground her teeth together.

She wanted to lie to him, but she couldn't take the risk, and Elijah knew that.

"Yes." She said between her gritted teeth, hearing a disappointed hiss from Spike, so she glanced away from the blue-eyed vampire, looking at Elijah as if she were a sullen child admitting to misbehavior.

He smiled at her deference. "I thought as much. Well. As much as we'd love to keep injecting you, our stores are limited, so we'll have to have another way."

"Cut her arms off?" Harmony suggested brightly, as if this were some group brainstorming session. Jade felt her hand curl into a fist, and she had some movement in her elbow now, at least in her left arm. Wasn't near enough. Nothing wooden around her, and even if there was, she didn't think her legs worked. But Harmony's comment instilled a deep seated fear in Jade's stomach, one that Spike had confided in her about months ago. Dana had cut off his hands, and he had feared losing them again so much he had nearly had a panic attack. Amputation of some sort had always been a horror of Jade's, and she felt sick at the thought of it. Please, please, please no.

 _Shh, Super girl. Won't let it happen._ Whether Spike heard her mindless prayer or if he just knew she was upset, his voice was soothing, even if the sentiment was impossible. He had no power here, neither did she. All she could do was sit in this chair. Wait for them to pick her up and cut her arms off if that's what they desired. She felt sick.

"Really, Harmony?" Elijah's voice was disdainful. "What possible use would she have for us then?"

Harmony pouted while Jade's hopes cautiously but admittedly soared. Yes, that was common sense. And if there was anything Elijah had displayed, it was a conniving intellect that she hoped would spare her now.

"Just a thought," Harmony moped, grounding her heeled foot into the floor.

"No," Elijah said, and the way he spoke next convinced Jade that he had the answer all along, and perhaps he had just wanted to see the fear on Jade's face, the anticipation. "A less permanent but equally satisfactory option. Hog," Elijah turned his gaze towards the large bouncer-like vampire that had carried Jade into the room. What a fitting name for the pig-looking like vampire. "Break her arms."

"Bastards!" Spike snapped, while Elijah continued his sentence, voice still undeniably cool.

"Shatter them."

Jade licked her lips, hoping it wouldn't betray how she trembled. Spike growled, a fierce guttural sound that tore from his throat as he stood up from the table, smacking his chained wrists on the table, a loud slamming sound that made her jump slightly. "You wanker," Spike spat with venom at Elijah. Spike elbowed one of the vampires that sought to re-settle Spike, and the vampire fell back with a heavy thud. Spike was thrashing wildly, more than a match with the vampires, even with his wrists manacled. Until Kern stepped in, his pale yellow eyes gleaming and his horrible face stretched into a sneer, with a hard thump, he knocked the platinum blonde vampire back into his seat, holding back in place the stake that had been hit away from Spike during his tussle.

That would have been a perfect moment to step in, to fight. While they were all distracted and while Kern hadn't been standing right beside Spike.

If she could have moved.

"Just leave her alone," Spike continued to bark, while Jade just sat there, numb. What were her options? Begging? That wouldn't do anything. She could survive broken limbs. She wasn't human any more. She didn't have to worry about them growing back wrong, she had both vampire and slayer healing. She could survive this.

She'd just be useless again. And the pain. She took in a deep breath that she didn't need, let it coat her tongue as she straightened her back. Spike hadn't stopped struggling, and Kern's bat-like fingers had closed around his neck.

 _Spike, it's okay._

 _Like bloody hell it is,_ he snapped back.

 _It could be worse._

 _Sodding hell, woman._ But he stopped moving, uttering a few more choice curses at Elijah, who coolly ignored them. Not just coolly, but with amusement, his lips still in a smirk as he nodded once more to the large vampire named Hog. Another vampire had stepped up to Jade's left, as if she needed more security. She couldn't move still, she couldn't do anything.

But she wouldn't give Elijah the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

Strong as the mountain, remember? The mantra knocked back into her head out of habit.

"A clean break will not do." Elijah told Hog. He grabbed Jade, pressure increasing on her arm. Reminding Jade of when she was younger. Of when Pen would grab her fingers and break them so she could learn to hold a stake with broken fingers. If Jade moved, she was a coward, if she cried, then she was a weakling.

 _Please don't count_ , Jade thought desperately. _Don't count down, just do it._

 _I'm here,_ Spike's soothing voice in her head, she could no longer him spitting insults at Elijah. _You're not alone._

 _Distract me._

 _Whatever y'need,_ Spike promised her, his low, deep voice in her head, _First off, I'd like t'tell you that the notion surrounding that game you like so bloody much, Pokémon, is sodding ridiculous. How the hell is anythin' supposed to fit in those tiny balls._

Bless him for making her smile.

And then there was a snap. Her teeth bit down, finding her lip, sinking in automatically. And her hand flailed. Not the arm that had just been broken, but her free one, that one that had slowly been regaining movement. It jerked of its own accord, reaching up and striking the vampire who had been standing on her left. He flew. Flew in a streak of movement, past the table, narrowly missing one of the monitors and crashing into the wall. _Through_ the wall. Plaster and sparks flew everywhere, and then the short shriek was ended by dust coating the floor. There was an almost comical after-silence as all the vampires turned and looked, flabberghasted at the bad luck end to the unfortunate vampire. Jade's pain was momentarily diverted by her surprise, and the sound of Spike's chuckle and Harmony's gasp.

It was probably Spike's chuckling that enraged Elijah. He moved, swiftly, standing in front of her. Her good hand curled and uncurled as she looked up at him defiantly.

"It was an accident." She admitted pertly. Her arm throbbed, then, a white-hot ache that flared up into existence. Feeling had come back into her arm in time for it to hurt. And hurt it did.

Elijah wasn't pleased. He leaned into her now, and she had nowhere to go, nowhere to lean back. He wrapped his hands around her neck, not afraid of the arm curled under him. He still didn't fear her. She just annoyed him. "Try that again," He muttered at her in a cold, dangerous tone. "And I'll do the same to him," He jerked his head at Spike, and smirked at the horror that appeared on Jade's face. "Understood?"

"Understood," Jade echoed hollowly. She felt blood drip down her lip from when she had bitten it, and she refrained from licking it, feeling it drip down her chin, even though she knew she needed to keep every last drop of blood in her, she couldn't do it in front of Elijah, just sat like an obedient automaton. Watching his twisted smile as he stepped back and another vampire took the place of the one that Jade had just thrown through the walls. There were no further options for her, just sit there and take it.

And it was going to hurt.


	76. Chapter 75

**75**

It was hard to watch. Not her determined expression, the way her blue eyes blazed and didn't give a single bloody quarter, how her sleek jaw was set firmly, lips folded into a straight, untroubled line. But the pain that flashed in her eyes and how her blunt teeth worried her skin until blood sunk down, staining her light, marble skin. The way she paled after the next breaking of her arm. And she held on so bloody valiantly, the small, trembling thing that she was, as they turned their attention to her rogue left arm and broke it in the same manner as the first. She didn't send a vampire flying that time, more's the bloody pity. But she couldn't. They were crippling her, effectively, for as long as they sodding wanted.

Arse hole and wanker didn't seem enough of a word to describe them, not bloody accurate enough. They were hell-spawns, cruel demons of the otherworld and they were torturing her, and he felt the same pain reflect in his chest and creep like icy tendrils through his heart each time he saw her tremble and her eyes fill with tears she was determined to keep away. And she was so bloody tenacious, trying with all of her will to be strong. He was so proud. And he was so, so much to blame.

He'd caused this. If he hadn't come with her, they'd never had the leverage to keep her like this. But he had barrelled in, ignoring her well-founded fears because of the way they'd pricked at his sodding pride. His pride. Bloody hell, he was a wanker himself. The woman who loved him was having her arms broken because of him, and she was doing her very best not to scream, shivering with the effort.

And she didn't, at first.

Until they went back and broke her arms again, bloody calculatingly and carefully, a clean goddamn break wasn't enough, so they shattered the bones. Even a Slaypire couldn't heal that that fast. Not without a healthy supply of blood. Was she going to get that? Not bloody likely.

And he was speaking to her in her head, nonsense really, anything that popped into his head. Eventually it had dissolved into songs, word lyrics like he had sung to Dru once to calm her while she was having one of her episodes. But it wasn't enough to fight back the pain, and he'd given anything to have helped shoulder some of it for her. Hell, all of it. The first scream that left her lips pierced him like a splinter to the heart. She hung her head, feeling dejected, like she'd lost, in her mind, that she admitted to them just how much they hurt her. She felt defeated, and it broke him to hear it. Bloody Elijah and his smug grin, watching and chuckling to himself, a look in his eyes that reminded Spike of Angelus. That same, sick, twisted mind, and it sodding nauseating to think of Jade, helpless, left to his design.

And there was not a thing he could do.

She fainted, at one point. When they'd finished completely breaking her right arm, her eyes had fluttered closed, and she'd slumped. And despite the curses he'd hurled at them, how he'd struggled under Kern's hold until he'd bit hit on the head so hard he could see the twinkling bloody stars, he couldn't stop them from pressuring her arm until the pain woke her up again. Jade had been sweating, dampness coating her forehead, and she'd opened up those blazing blue eyes, held them to Elijah's and hadn't fainted again. Her shrieks, she couldn't always hold back, and he'd assured her that she wasn't being weak, not one bloody bit, that she could scream all she bloody liked and tried to take out the wankers' ear drums while she was at it. He saw the corner of her lips twitch at that comment, but she hadn't answered back, staying silent as yet another crack sounded in the room.

Even Harmony had left. She'd found it amusing for a bit, but she wasn't the biggest warrior, that was for sodding sure, and she left half-way through, reciting she had more important things to do. Her eyes had centered on Spike, and he'd almost thought there was the slightest flicker of sympathy there, but he didn't trust it nor did he give a bloody damn. Harmony had more sympathy for her stupid purse poodle than for them, and it didn't mean a thing that'd help them. So she didn't have the stomach for it. He was glad to see her go, walking pertly on her heels with no more looks back as the doors shut behind her. Elijah though, his gaze never wavered, the Pillock enjoying every last second of it.

Spike was going to kill him. He was going to kill him, because they weren't bloody dying here, not a way in hell. If he had to carry Jade out with him, he'd find some way. No more sittin' around in cages, waiting for some grand arse to dictate the rest of their lives. He had to get her out of here, and he was so angry with Red that he'd tear her a sodding new one if he saw her again. She was supposed to be here, keeping an eye on them, and she damn well wasn't, and it was easier to blame her 'cuz he was already blaming himself. Blaming himself for the way she slumped in her chair, paler and weaker than he had ever seen her, and it was. All. His. Sodding. Fault.

She'd wanted the mission but she didn't have the spine to carry it out with cold-blooded efficiency. Hell, he'd known that. That was why he had to come along, to help her. Well, what a bloody help he had been. He'd gotten them both captured, her bloody _crippled_ , because he hadn't known she was in love with him. Hadn't known she'd be unwilling to do what was necessary to keep him unliving. But he should have bloody known. He was the observant one, damn it. The one who saw the nuances before the rest. One who could take a bloody beating from Illyria and know what kind of fighting styles she used at the same time blood poured out of his ears. But he'd completely missed this, sodding oblivious.

Maybe he'd wanted to overlook it. Stupid of him, bloody idiotic. And then he'd yelled at the poor girl, the arse he was. He wasn't angry at her. He was bloody pissed at himself, and damn it to hell, he needed to tell her. Couldn't leave her hanging like that.

It seemed like ages, at least an hour before the arses were finally done with breaking her arms. They hadn't rushed at Elijah's bloody behest, and Spike hated him for it. With that smirk on his lips that reminded Spike so much of Angelus, they were finally carted away, with Kern still holding the stake to Spike's back, putting an end to the delicious sodding fantasy that they could have somehow overtook them in the hall there, had it just been the lackeys. But Jade wasn't responsive any longer, allowing herself to be picked up like a doll once more, chewing her lip to hide another cry of pain as her arms were jarred.

And they'd nearly made it out of the room when Elijah had stopped them, something coming to his mind. He'd walked over to Jade and ripped the ring off of her finger. That elicited a cry from Jade she couldn't hold back, from the pain or the loss of her telepathy ring, it was a sodding toss-up. Elijah looked at Spike and Jade coolly, acting the ignoramus as he declared, "I've always wanted one of these. Suits me much better." He had placed it around his finger, the pinkie being the only one that'd allow it, and he'd finished the sentence in Spike's head.

 _Wouldn't you agree?_

Disgusted, furious, Spike ripped off his own ring and tossed it to the ground. He brought his foot down, hearing the snaps of metal as it was crushed beneath him. Kern let out a angry hiss and struck Spike so hard that he stumbled down, his back bloody aching as his knees hit the floor. Elijah however, let out an amused chuckle. He was sodding amused, not at all irritated by the loss of the ring. Just been an attempt to get on their bloody nerves. And it worked. Spike was livid, where Jade just looked drawn, her eyes set on the ring still on Elijah's finger.

 _We don' need it,_ Spike wanted to tell her, but o' course that wouldn't reach her any more. Still, her eyes were finding his, those soft blue lights, and it wasn't worse than their loss of freedom, being thrown behind bars, although it was another blow. But it still wasn't over. He gave her the lightest of smiles to remind her of that, and her lips twitched in agreement. No more being in each other's heads. Little while ago, he would have been bloody overjoyed. He kicked the remains of the metal ring with his toe as Kern moved him forward again, throwing a cool, unaffected glare at Elijah as they were escorted out of the room, glad to be rid of that pillock for a while, even if they were just led back to the cages.

This time, they weren't alone. The far cage, the one touching Jade's other side was taken up by a familiar figure. Lily. That explained the blood he'd been picking up. She didn't move her head up when Jade and Spike were brought into the room, though he could hear Lily's heartrate increase. She was awake, hiding her face behind her mass of black hair.

Spike was nearly thrown into his cage after his handcuffs were removed, biting back another grunt as his already sore shoulder knocked against the bars. Goddamn he was tired of being thrown around like a sodding football. The British kind, 'f course. But his pain was forgotten as Jade was given the same treatment, shoved in without so much of a goodbye, and of course she stumbled, without any way to regain her balance. She fell, face down, staying like that for a few seconds as their sodding escort melted away, with Spike ignoring Kern's insults and keeping his eyes on his face-down Slaypire. She slowly began to shuffle, a grunt sounding in her throat as she turned her way onto her side instead, strands of brown hair falling in front of her face that she couldn't brush away. Her chest heaved and fell with breaths she didn't need, exhausted from the effort. Her whole body trembled, and he could tell it still pained her to lean on one side, but she hadn't the strength yet to move to her back. Hadn't the strength yet. That frightened him more than it had when he had first glimpsed that awesome strength. Thought it was too much for a person to handle, and now it was gone. Her legs were moving, at least, of their own accord now. Must have worn off.

A bit too bloody late.

"Got your legs back?" Spike asked, because asking how she was doing was a bloody joke. How'd he think she was doing, with two fractured arms.

"Yeah," Jade answered quietly. She was facing him, her cheek pressed to the rock floor, because the arse holes had dug this place out of the sodding Earth and they couldn't bother putting in a bloody floor. "I wonder how long he knew about the rings."

"Don't need 'em," He told her curtly.

"I know." She looked down at her hand, the now bare one, and he could see the resolve on her face when she tried to make a fist. But she couldn't quite manage it, a sharp exhale of pain shooting through her half-mangled lips at the attempt. She slumped back down, a blanker look on her face.

"Don't push yourself," Spike warned her, but he meant it gently. Bloody proud of her for trying, but she didn't need any more pain to add to her plate. Jade didn't respond, and Spike turned his gaze to the quiet Slayer instead. "Your tongue working?" He asked, a bit harsher than he meant to, but it had been a bloody trying day, and he didn't have the patience to coddle. Unless it was Jade.

Dark eyes looked at him from under that mass of hair, but the girl didn't say anything, her wiry arms reaching out to hug herself as she slowly rocked herself.

"Spike," Jade murmured in gentle reproach. He watched her grit her teeth. Her neck tensed, body awash in small tremors as she took great effort to roll herself onto her back. A harsh gasp tendered the air, and her stomach rose and fell. She looked up at the roof for one blank moment, and then pushed herself up into a sitting position without the use of her arms. Not an overwhelming feat for a slayer, but he could see how she cringed as the movement rocked her arms. She took a long shuddering exhale, turning her face towards the girl, Lily. The girl had been watching, her eyes focused on Jade throughout the ordeal, a mesmerized fascination in her eyes. The way she watched Jade reminded Spike of the confrontation with Dana.

Just hopefully without the crazy.

"Hey," Jade said, managing to keep her voice steady, soft as she looked towards Lily. "Are you okay?"

Lily looked at her, not answering, trembling as she continued to rock.

"I'm Jade," Jade told her. "How long have you been in here, Lily?" She was sweet, encouraging, in a way Spike wouldn't be, so he didn't interrupt. Didn't help his patience by Lily still not answering, staring at Jade with her dark eyes.

"We're going to get you out of here," Jade promised. He couldn't see her face when she turned towards Dana, but he could imagine her smile, soft and reassuring. Jade had a kind face, one that she was willing to share with the less fortunate. Kids, even, though she claimed she didn't like them. But her consideration wasn't enough to garner an answer from Lily, so Jade, not one to press, turned back to look at Spike, giving him a light shrug.

"No escape," Lily whispered then, and Jade turned back towards her. The trembling girl shook, then. "There's no way to escape."

"We'll find a way." Jade insisted.

Lily just shook her head. "No," the girl said mournfully, and turned away. Jade looked back at Spike, her expression pensive, but at least it wasn't as hopeless as Lily's. Jade made no more attempt to talk to Lily, letting the girl sit by herself and trying not to call out the quiet sobs that they could both hear.

"You a'right?" Spike asked then, quietly as Jade's eyes landed on him again, contemplative. She nodded, albeit uncertainly.

"I'll live. Sort of." She fixed her lips in a crooked smile at her half-hearted attempt at humor, and his heart squeezed at her courage. Wasn't bloody fair, the beating she'd taken. For him.

"Worth it?" He asked in a low voice.

"Always," Jade said, her eyes not meeting his as they dropped to a non-important section of the floor.

"'Cuz I know a few blokes who'd think you're off your gourd for givin' up for m'. As declarations go, matching the normal violent fashion 'm used to."

She closed her eyes. "Don't make fun of me please," She begged him in a tinny voice. "I don't think I can bear it right now."

"God, no," he said, aghast. His humor had had the opposite effect on her as he had wanted, her lips spread thin and her expression dismayed. "Bloody hell, I'm not trying to be an arse. Know how bad it feels to get declarations thrown in your face, trust me. No bloody stranger to that at all. I didn't mean to—" He let out an exasperated sigh, running his hand through his muss of platinum blonde curls. "I shouldn't have been mad at you. Wasn't mad at you, luv. Frustrated to bloody hell an' back, but not 'cuz of you. You were right. Thinking I'd be a burden to you. This 's my fault, not yours."

"No," Her tone had steadied, no longer soft and on the edge of breaking, it was firm. "No, Spike, I needed you here. You were right. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Yeah, all the way to the prison cell," Spike said bitterly.

"No," She said again. "They'd laugh at me if I had strolled in here and demanded attention. I wouldn't have gotten anywhere. And my vampire acting, well that needed some work. And you," Her expression softened. "You kept me sane. Keep me sane." She added.

"'M still sorry."

She gave him a sad smile. "Nothing to be sorry about."

"You'd be wrong 'bout that. Gave up your freedom for me, and I was an arse."

"You would have done the same for me. Got sucked into a demon dimension for me, remember?" She said it brightly, but he didn't take the bait. Plenty of situations had piled up over the months where they had saved each other. Too many to mention, and he wasn't about to play even the total. There would be no making it equal.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have tanned m' bloody hide for it."

"I don't know about that," Jade said slightly, teasing. As much humour as she could manage at the moment. "Really," She said, serious now. "Don't feel bad. Just forget it. Please."

"You 'shamed, then?"

Her expression hardened. She knew what he was talking about. Was half expecting her to play coy, really, but she shook her head. "Never."

His heart gave a hard clench. Metaphorically, o' course. Thing never worked any more. Hadn't in a long time. But he felt from somewhere, and the poet in him would insist that was where the center of his emotions were at. Damn science, endorphins, whatever that garbage was. Was in his heart that twanged now, at the pure devotion that he had somehow bloody inspired in this woman. The woman who was pale as death and beyond, her arms uselessly limp and blood stained around her mangled lip, bloody beaten to a pulp, but she was still somehow a blazing strength.

He had ran out of words to say. _Him_ , of all people. Nothing to say to her that could convey how it made him feel. Because he didn't bloody know either. Flattered, yeah, that was up there. Confused, it was at the top of the sodding list. Knew he should just thank her and move on. Had Buffy waiting in the wings for him, the love of his unlife, and as nice as the sentiment was, he just couldn't return it. An' he knew Jade would accept that, likely had already, would understand with that nod of hers and move on, and somehow it made him feel like a bastard, like he was pretending. 'Cuz he was all befuddled when it should be clear as sunshine. Buffy was the sunshine, and she was fire. And he'd wanted that, and it burned him, but that's what love did, it bloody burned. Hurt like a git.

It was never soft and unassuming, never given without thought of anything in return. That had been his love, over a century ago, when he'd stumbled over it in prose. Effulgent! That word cursed him still, hanging about his head as a reminder of how foolish he'd been. And Dru, she'd wanted so many things from him, but she was never able to accept his love, never understood it. What she loved was the pain that Angelus gave her, and Spike couldn't fill that void.

And God, he'd tried.

With Buffy, well, hell. That was a conflict a lifetime worth in the span of a few years. She'd spurned him at every turn, led him on enough just to give him help and then slap it away. He should have resented her for it, but he loved her like a hopeless puppy. And then she'd called him, just weeks ago. Asked for him to come back. Offered him what he'd been wanting for so long.

And he'd damn well been confused. Not ecstatic, not fulfilled. Bloody well flummoxed. Handed the thing he wanted more than anything in the world. 'Cept he hadn't been needing it any more. Hung on her will so long, he'd learned to live without her. But he'd done it, because he still loved Buffy. Always loved Buffy. Got his soul back for her. Took his promise to her so close to heart it had been nearly a soul on its own. Should have been a happy ending to a long ol' struggle, but instead he'd just been left with uncertainty.

And it angered him. What the hell was wrong with him now that he wasn't happy as a peach about being with Buffy. The one woman he loved. Instead, he was always comparing them. Shouldn't. Did. Compared Buffy's style to Jade's, the shape of their eyes and the intensity of their colors. Buffy's were like emeralds, burning like the sun. Jade's was like the summer's sky. Shouldn't have been thinking about her so much, but he did. And now he was with her, stuck in this sodding mess, and he was glad it was her. Probably made him more of a wanker, but his team work sessions with Buffy didn't exactly go well. She'd be yelling at him this entire time. But it wasn't even that.

As anxious as he was that this might be the end for them, he wanted it to be with Jade. Did that make him more of a bastard, or less? He didn't have the bloody answer for that.

He didn't have the answer for anything.


	77. Chapter 76

**76**

In a world of perpetual aches, Jade could barely manage to move. Each time, it felt like pieces of glass were sliding under her skin. A dislocation times a thousand, or something along those lines. Slayers had good pain-tolerance, and Vampires did too, in the sense that they weren't as mortal, minus the burning, head-chopping and stakeage of the heart, bit. But it wasn't enough. She felt like there was ice in her bones and fire in her veins. It had taken her an hour, but she had crawled to the back of the cage, closer to Spike's side, giving herself something to lean against. Her hands were useless, though they'd bend and straighten, it hurt too much to try. Moving was such a chore, since she couldn't leave her hands in her lap because her thighs would continually push against them, and if she left them on the outside, they'd drag through the dirt. Either way, it was a pain like she had never felt before. Physically, at least.

It was hard to stay awake, and it got worse as the hunger took over. Had been a day or two days since her arms had been broken? Probably just the one, though it seemed longer. Hours dragged by, and she slipped in and out of consciousness. Lily barely spoke, and the vampires came for her, and not Jade and Spike, taking her for a few hours before returning her. Different clothes, but her hair just as tangled, and even more mute than before. Jade had coaxed a few words out of Lily, but not much. Lily hadn't been with the Slayers either. She'd been approached, but her parents had refused to let her go. School was more important than this calling, one that could bring her to an immature death.

How ironic that their exact fears had happened because they had refused to let her go.

Spike had little patience with the Slayer, but Jade understood. He wanted answers, the full on, laid out down and dirty truth. And Lily couldn't provide that, not yet. Maybe not ever. She kept to silence, to whimpers and to cries. Lily was awake now, as Jade's eyes flickered open to see her back in her cage. Jade had fallen asleep again, her head to the bar. But for some reason, she found that it wasn't hard metal that her forehead had fallen against. Something warm, soft. She had an errant thought that it shouldn't be any warmer, not to her, that she had no temperature except the coldness of the room. But somehow it was a comforting feel, something not as icy as she felt, and as she tilted her head up, she could see that what she had been leaning into had been Spike's arm.

It didn't look like a comfortable position for him, but he had reached through the bars that separated them, as they were just wide enough for his arm. Not very much else. Not enough for her to slip through, and of course the thought had come to her mind once, if only to reassure her by nearness. He had wrapped his hand around the bars, keeping himself still for who knew how long, letting her sleep on a softer not-quite-human-but-close-enough pillow. She felt a lump grow in her throat at his kindness. She hoped it wasn't out of pity, but she pushed the errant thought out of her head and settled on gratitude. It had been hard to sleep. At least her body didn't move and breathe of its own accord, but gravity was continually weighing on her arms, and the pain was a constant companion.

"Have a nice kip?" Blue eyes met hers as he spoke in a low, gentle voice. She found she was reluctant to lift her head from his arm, but he had seen her moving, glancing around, and knew she was awake. So with a slight unwillingness, she pulled herself from his offered support. They were both sitting, so their faces were nearly level. He looked at her through the bars.

"Not too bad." Was a lie, but it was better than nothing. Her sleep was often full of dreams, but they had just been regimented by pain, a red wave that corrupted every dream segment. "Must not have been comfortable," She added softly, hoping he could see the thankfulness on her face. "Holding your arm like that."

"Yeh, I'm no statue. But 'm not warm blooded. Bit easier for th' dead to be still." His cerulean gaze scanned her face. "Did it help?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes. Thanks." She was still shaking off the grogginess of her inadequate sleep, but that wasn't the only reason for her reticence. She didn't quite know how to deal with Spike now. He'd gone from being angry at her to being contrite, and she didn't know if she displeased him or if he pitied her. She didn't know how to ask, and she wasn't going to stumble over the words.

"Good." He answered, his eyes glancing away from her and to the other captive presence as he brought his arm back into his cage. The bruises on his face had paled somewhat, but there was still purple traces on his alabaster skin, and the cuts from Kern's claws had closed, but still stood abruptly out, red against white skin. Still, she supposed he looked far better than her. Her hair was a mess, sticking out, the small pieces flying each and everywhere, and she couldn't even tuck the locks back behind her ear. Instead, she raised her thin shoulder in a haphazard attempt to brush them back, her stomach clenching and teeth gnashing at the inexorable wave of pain the simple movement sent through her. With a shudder, she felt herself awash in the agony, and kept herself as still as a statue until the pain subsided. She was as much a captive of her pain as she was of the vampires. Sometimes it overtook her, and she simply couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. Just feel helpless.

She was surprised by the brushing of her hair back behind her ear. Spike had reached through the bars again, albeit a bit awkwardly, completing the task she'd failed at, fixing the blunt locks of hair back out of her way.

"Thanks," She said again. Her voice sounded hoarse.

"Better y'ask me, then trying to do it yourself," He chastised Jade, but not harshly. His thumb stroked her cheek inadvertently as he pulled back his hand, and she resisted the urge to lean into his palm. So desperate for comfort she was, she had a hard time resisting him. But he was being kind, and that was all of it. No need to make even more of a fool out of herself.

"Next time," She tried to smile, but she doubted it came out as anything other than grim.

"How're your arms?" Spike asked, his concerned blue gaze glancing down to the subject in question.

Jade glanced down at them. She had to admit, they weren't as excruciating as the night before. At least, they seemed less loose, less jarring against tissue and tendons as they had. But they still hurt. And she felt queasy looking down at her arms now. They were more crooked than her re-healed fingers had ever been. They reminded her of a zig-zag, although a little less extreme. She felt sick and looked away. They looked disgusting, and felt the same. Her arms would heal, but they'd grow back twisted unless they could be set properly, and she wasn't going to get that unless their vampire captives decided so. She bit back a scoff at that. 'Bloody likely', in Spike's words.

"Not the greatest," She supplied after a long moment. Spike's eyes scanned her arms with the same inquisitive gaze.

"'Ere," Spike said, fitting his hands through the bars once more. "Migh' be able to fix them a bit."

"Rebreak them, you mean?" She tried to keep her tone even but she couldn't quite manage it. His eyes met hers, the soft blue that burned a hole right through her. His expression held pity for her, and her heart clenched at it. At least it was towards the pain she was in and not… not the other thing. She hoped, at least.

"Yeh," He said. "You're healin', still. At a mighty fast rate, but won't matter if it isn't fixed. Won't help you none."

"Yeah," She echoed, in a whisper. "Okay." She straightened her back, taking in a breath she didn't need and holding it in her mouth. Trying to hide the fact she was trembling, she shifted her shoulders towards Spike, and his hands carefully reached for hers to steady them. The touch, however gentle, sent a variety of tremors up her arms that caused a fresh ripple of pain. Nothing unbearable, and not nearly as bad as it was going to be, but Spike must have felt how she stiffened, and he ran his thumb reassuringly across the smooth skin of her hand. That didn't cause her pain, it was so light, but it caused a different kind of ache. One where she wanted him to stop touching her so gently, so sweetly, but at the same time revel in every second of it.

"You're Super Girl," Spike reminded her. "Remember? Stronger than… what is it you kept mutterin' in your head?"

"Strong as the mountain," Jade breathed, and then added, slightly embarrassed. "You heard that?"

"Yeh," Spike shrugged, then added in a comforting smirk. "Prolly true, though. Might test you against a mountain some time, make it official."

She couldn't help but smile at his sentiment, the simple way he said it. As if it were a fact, something he was seriously thinking of doing.

As if they'd ever get out of here.

"I don't have to break all your bits," Spike was telling her. His thumb was still running smooth circles on her skin. It was the lightest of pressures, and the movement was entrancing. She wondered if he was doing it consciously. "Just a bit o' course correction."

"Okay."

He looked like he was going to say something, his full lips opening, but then he closed them, a slight furrow in his brow. Then came the first snap. He was careful, meticulous. When the vampires had broken her bones, they hadn't broken the skin. Just twisted it until it broke. And he did the same, in the reverse way. At least she didn't have to look at her skin in pieces, bones sticking out of her. Thank God for that. Didn't mean it didn't hurt. Her knees shot up to her chest, and she could barely suppress the hiss that wheezed through her teeth.

"S'okay," Spike said to her in soft, soothing tones. "No-one can 'ear you down here." And he didn't wait, didn't give her time to get used to the throbbing pain before he moved on to the next arm. She was thankful. Wanted it over with as soon as possible. It seemed counter-productive, what they were doing. Hell, her bones were just starting to heal, and they were re-breaking them. That reasoning threatened to rear its head again and again, anything to keep her from feeling like this, she wanted to argue, to fight. But no, it was necessary. Had to do it or any healing her body did was a waste.

With the next snap of her arm she didn't bother hiding the whimper leaving her throat. There was pressure of a different kind then, as Spike grabbed her hand.

"Hey," He murmured to her, gentle. Too gentle. Why did he have to be like this, so irresistibly caring, looking at her with those blue eyes that knew everything? She couldn't bother hiding anything from him now, it would just be lying.

Coward, he'd called her. It had been a terrible blow. That was the last thing she wanted to be. She was timid, and afraid. Shy, and she had to pretend to be bold. Scared of herself, and she had the strength of twenty men. At least, normally. Not now. Now she couldn't so much as pick up a pencil without crying out.

"Y-You think," Jade said, and she was out of a breath she didn't take, somehow panting as if she had been running a marathon and wasn't just sitting there, waiting for Spike to carry out his exceedingly gentle task. "I could bend the bars with my legs? Get us out of here that way?" The thought had come to her head, and she said it now to avoid talking about how she felt. To try to negate that ever-present pity she saw in his blue eyes.

"That's m' super girl," Spike said, and then a pinched look appeared on his face as he realised what he said. And her heart clenched, because of the way the words had rolled of his tongue, and now that he knew about her, he was just thinking that maybe she'd take it too literally.

God, this was a mess. And she didn't know him that well, not enough to read his mind, with or without the rings, but she invented the worst possible things he could be thinking, and she berated herself for it. Reality was harsh enough without her thinking of the most unfavorable outcome all the time.

"Thought about that," Spike continued, and she thanked him silently for it. Don't dwell on it, just move on. "But there's an elevator. We'd need the key fo' it. I don' think you're quite in the shape fo' climbing up an empty shaft."

"Doesn't mean I wouldn't try."

"I know," and he squeezed her hand again, but this time it was the way one would soothe a child and put to rest their impossible expectations. "Gotta wait fo' a better opportunity. Can't risk it."

"I thought you were all about risk," Jade said in as wry a voice as she could manage.

"That was before." His eyes narrowed then.

"Before what?" Her tongue caught in her throat. Oh lord, was this another one of those double entendre sentences where he was saying one thing and meaning something else? She needed a how-to manual for him. She didn't know the right thing to say to him, or have any idea what he meant.

"We got Miss Cat-got-my-tongue over there," Spike said, and whether it was the answer he had meant or another, she had no idea, and he dipped his chin in the direction of Lily. Jade tilted her head to look at the Chinese girl, who had been watching them without a word since Jade had woken up. And now, even if she had heard Spike, she gave no recognition. She was rocking herself but rarely blinking. "Don' think we could manage to get all of us out that way. Like she'll be any help."

His tone was disdainful, but she didn't chastise him for it. It was a stressful situation, and she could understand his frustrations. In fact, she reflected them. Any hope that Lily would be a willing part of their escape plan had long fled her expectations. She'd gone through too much, nightmares that had reduced her to a craven wreck, and Jade didn't expect much help from Lily now. "Yeah," Jade agreed. "We'd have to carry her." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah. You're right. We have to wait."

"'M always right," Spike insisted, but it lacked his usual bluster. His expression turned soft, then. "One more arm."

She gritted her teeth. "Noticed I was stalling?"

"Bloody obvious."

When it was over, she slumped to the bars, worn out and exhausted. Her arms throbbed with new agony, and she hadn't even thought it was possible. But when she looked down at her arms, their shape clear in the tight sleeves of her dress shirt, it wasn't so ghastly to look at. Her arms were straighter now, instead of the nauseating bends. And she _was_ healing, even with the blood in her body continuing to lower and lower. At least she hadn't thought about her hungry stomach while he'd been fixing her arms, but it returned in the aftermath, a dull emptiness in her belly. It was going to get worse. Even if they offered her blood, she doubted it would be animal blood. And even then, did she want to take the chance and drink it? No, she'd get weaker and weaker and then…

Jade closed her eyes. The pain had left her in a depressive state, and tears had blurred her vision for quite a while. She hadn't let any tears fall, though it had been close, but she hadn't quite been able to block all of her shrieks of pain. Lily had crawled up into a ball at one point, her hands on her ears to block it out, and Jade had shuddered at the thought that maybe Lily was comparing it to her own screams. Whatever had happened to the young Slayer had been a terrible thing, though at the moment it made Jade more dismayed than angry.

Maybe the anger would come back when she didn't feel so worn out.

"Still wit' me?" Spike asked. He'd been quiet for a while, likely because he thought she needed the silence, but it was nice to hear him. He was leaned into the bars as well, although his arms had long returned to his side of the cage, and she lamented the loss. She glanced at him, managing a wan smile. Or maybe it was more of a grimace.

"Never left," She said with an attempt at levity that fell short.

"What were you hummin'?"

She was startled. Not the fact that he had picked it up—Vampire hearing, after all—but that she hadn't realised it. In an attempt to block out the pain, she had tried just about everything to keep her mind off of it, and singing quietly to herself had been her salvation. Something to distract her, but she hadn't done it consciously.

"Oh," Jade answered. "I'm not sure. Hallelujah, I think, at one point."

He made a face. "How depressing."

She laughed a bit, managing one small chuckle that didn't shake her body too hard. "No, I just like the song. It's relaxing. It's one of my favorites."

Spike leaned back, his eyes still on her, watching like a hawk. "Well y'can keep singing it, then. Won't stop you. Even though you're bloody tone deaf."

She wrinkled her nose at him. He'd mentioned that during their car trip across Russia, and of course, she knew it was true, but that didn't mean it didn't vex her a little. She loved singing, it was just unfortunate that she was really, really bad at it. Better leave that for the professionals. Or turning the speakers way up. Then it was safe. "I'll pass. I think we've been tortured enough."

She meant it as a joke, and she tensed in case his expression would turn grim, but he seemed amused instead, his eyebrow arching and those lips of his tweaked in a smirk.

"You could sing for me instead," She added in as light a voice as she could manage. They had to keep up their spirits one way or another, and it was diverting to see how his expression took on a comical aversion.

"Not ta chance."

"I've heard you sing before," She argued. "With the radio. The Ramones, Sex Pistols…"

"No tunes fo' the atmosphere, and do I look like a bloody juke box t'you?"

She was more enthused with the gentle teasing than actually getting him to sing, although it was a good distraction, and a smile cracked her lips as she prepared to try to convince him.

And then they heard the scraping. The elevator as it moved towards their floor, and the ding as it opened. Jade immediately froze, as if she was a rabbit trapped. She snapped her gaze back towards the entrance. She had no heart to beat wildly, yet one sounded. Took her a few seconds to realise that it was Lily's, and the girl had crawled into the corner of her cage, as far back as she could go, trembling in anticipation. Jade didn't have the capability to move that fast—not without severe pain, but Spike, as if reading her mind, shuffled to the front of his cage, apart from her and near the entrance. She didn't want to be caught too near Spike, in case they decided that being unreachable to each other would be a better punishment—and it would be.

Footsteps sounded, and then there was Elijah, at the head of another entourage. It was the first time she had seen him down here, and that familiar fear sliced through her stomach. She wasn't the only one—she could hear how Lily's breath hitched with terror, and a small whimper left the girl's throat. Jade's fingers twitched, as if she could use them to defend her and Lily, but even the small act wasn't done with precision, her fingers trembling more than they were actually curling to her design. No, she was helpless still.

"I thought I'd come pay a visit," Elijah's cool voice sounded, that infallible smirk in place on his face. He inflicted so much fear in her, even with the continual usage of his human face. Any thought that she might find that reassuring had long since fallen away.

 _Brave, be brave. Strong as the mountain_. The mantra seemed childlike to her now, that she had to whisper it with such vehemence to avoid trembling. But she was terrified, the close proximity of Elijah making her feel panicked. But There was Spike, standing tall and stoic, and she desperately wanted to emulate him. She didn't want to be a coward.

"Bit better down 'ere without your ugly mug," Spike threw back in his casual, ever-present defiance. He showed no fear as he stared down the demon, and Jade envied it. All she could do was watch, no scathing remarks coming to mind.

"Petty insults, Spike? They seem a bit lacking." Elijah was unconcerned and unbothered, motioning to his vampires. "His cage first," He audibled in command, and the vampires, large and intimidating looking surged towards Spike's cage, where they proceeded to unlock it. Spike threw himself to the fray, of course, soon as the door was open, snarling and fighting as most trapped animals would do.

Not Jade. She just crouched there, useless, watching the five vampires overpower him. He wasn't at the top of his game either, without blood for just as long as Jade had been, and had taken more than a couple of blows from Kern. Still, these were strong, capable opponents, and they were armed with stakes that they pointed at Spike's heart as he was herded into the corner. Still, she expected him to fight back with all the leonine grace and strength that she had come to count on from him, and even outnumbered, outclassed, if they gave him an inch, she thought he'd tear them up for every bit of that allowance.

But he had noticed what she hadn't, while her eyes had been frozen on Spike, watching him take more blows than he'd been receiving, that her own cage had been unlocked, and Elijah had stepped in, alone and unworried. She'd realised too late, trying urgently to scramble up to her feet before he reached her, biting back a gasp of pain as she hit one of her arms against the bars in her hurry. But Spike had slowed, sharing in the same concern that she had for him, and he let out a guttural growl as he was effectively halted in his likely superfluous attempt to fight back. A stake was pressed to his heart, but it was more of a threat towards Jade than it was for Spike. It didn't scare him like it did her, watching the weapon that could kill him sit so close to the target.

Jade regretfully tore her eyes away from Spike. His face had morphed, yellow eyes gleaming and his fangs bared at those who had dared think to take him on. He growled in frustration about being crowded into the corner like a helpless animal. Spike never denied that he was an animal, in fact he had gloated about it before, but this was the sadder truth of it, the caged beast.

But she had her own problems. Elijah stepped in easily, if not disdainfully, looking about the cage as if it were some distasteful place, the bottom of the barrel.

 _Well, take a seat,_ Jade thought defiantly, with a fire she couldn't share aloud. Not in truth. She couldn't even hug herself, although she had the impulse to do it, as Lily was, her dark eyes wide and fixated on Elijah. Jade didn't look away either. Couldn't. She had managed the painful climb to stand on her feet, and now her shoulders pressed into the back of her cage. She couldn't go any further, just feel her stomach clench as Elijah stepped closer.

And he knew it. Could see the fear in her, cut through every last mask she had hoped to construct. He knew how she trembled in his present, and she hated herself for being so transparent. But nothing seemed to be able those dark, sinister eyes.

"I wanted to have a chat," Elijah said the last word as if it were beneath his station, some casual slang that wasn't his usual cup of tea. "I hope you don't mind."

"What about?" Her voice didn't betray her at least. She imagined steel and tried to align her voice with it. Sharp, deadly. Spike was muttering a slew of curses at the vampires who kept him still.

"Just about our new arrangement," His eyes glinted. "I wanted to make sure you knew your place."

"Screw you." The words tumbled from her mouth like an impulse, and she found she didn't care. She was tired and worn and in pain, and she refused to tremble like a cornered rabbit. It was Spike's farce, not hers. Shooting barbs when it would be more intelligent to hold his tongue. Well, he was a glutton for punishment, and maybe she was too, now. Learned that from him.

Elijah chuckled. "These infantile curses. Do they make you feel powerful again, with your PG-Rated banter?"

"Fuck you, then."

In the span of a heartbeat, although not quite as fast as Lily's rapid-fire thrumming, Elijah had reached her. Jade had nowhere to go, her head hitting into the bar in her haste to try to back off anyway. She bit back a wince, eyes flickering up to meet Elijah's glower. He wasn't that tall. No more taller than Spike, although it was still quite a height difference, due to her regrettable 5'3 height. Always looking up, but she felt unbearably small now.

"That's the venom I expect," Elijah cooed, his hand reaching out towards her. She turned her cheek, her chin automatically seeking to draw herself away, but she had nowhere to go. As soon as his fingers grazed her skin, Jade heard a roar like a lion's from Spike. So he could see them, then. That made it worse. "However, your disobedience isn't what I require."

"Sorry to disappoint." Goddamn, she had to keep her voice from trembling, and it was so hard. She felt cold, colder still at his touch, like he sucked what little warmth she had out of her. Like she was turning to statue like him, the frigid undead. Her attempt at bravado was rapidly draining as the dread increased. Her stomach was twisted, goosebumps along her spine. She was absolutely helpless, that was exactly what Elijah wanted.

"Don't you bloody touch her, you wanker." Spike's unintelligible roar had shifted to furious words, but there was an edge of desperation in them too, an almost pleading that rattled Jade.

Elijah ignored him, or at least knew the words held no real threat. His fingers continued to stroke Jade's face, his thumb starting from her cheekbone and trailing down her jaw. It wasn't gentle, adoring strokes. It seemed…mocking. The pressure increased as his thumb drew to her chin, pushing into the bone as he wrapped his fingers under her chin and lifted her face up. His thumb flicked her bottom lip, an icy touch that sent chills down her body. She wasn't paralyzed. She could move. She just knew the consequences would be worse than just standing there and taking it, and she felt sick. Wished Spike would just turn away. She wanted to be alone in her humiliation. She'd boasted about her strength, depended on it. And she'd been out-maneuvered so completely.

"You know," Elijah murmured as he leaned in, his lips scant inches from her ear, and Jade froze at how close he was to her neck. Dead or not, her Slayer instincts were screaming at a dangerous vampire being in such a close spot. She had to ignore it, knowing that being bitten was the least of her worries. "I could have just shot that pet of yours with a tranquilizer gun. Left him in chains. Didn't need to let him have his little scuffle of fun." His hand trailed from her chin down to her throat, one finger dragging along each ridge of her skin and bones. "Do you know why I didn't?"

"Why?" Her voice seemed hoarse, distant, not like hers at all. Spike's roars had faded to dull, white noise, and all of her was attuned to the closeness of Elijah, her entire body on a heightened alert, screaming out for her to run. Except she couldn't. Even if she booted Elijah in the stomach with her legs and ran, Spike would be dust. He was an incredible fighter, but he had his limits.

"It was something you said." Jade flinched as his lips found her ear. Blunt teeth worried the light flesh, his words not accompanied by breath. He wasn't gentle enough to be mistaken as a lover, each act he did was to tighten the knot in her stomach. She had pressed herself back and back into the bars, wishing desperately that she could just slip through. "Something about seeing the hope before it's snatched away?"

She felt her blood go cold, if it wasn't already. She'd been fond of her answer for that, the reasoning she'd given for not putting Spike on a leash when she first came here, and now it was thrown back in her face, derisive and mocking, proving just how inadequate she had been.

"Brilliant," Jade said in a flat, empty tone. He bit down hard on her ear then, and she grimaced, fighting back a hiss. She had much worse pain than that. It wasn't the physical pain he provided that she was worried about, wasn't what nauseated and terrified her at the same time. It was her helplessness, that she was at his mercy. And even worse, that Spike was there to witness it.

"Do you know what power is?" Elijah had withdrawn, face-to-face with her once more. He was so close, she'd be able to feel his breath if he had any. "You thought you had it, isn't that right?" He stroked her collarbone, the pronounced bones that were just reachable through her collar.

"Yes," Jade answered, because he seemed like he was waiting for an answer, his dark, cruel eyes staring into hers.

"All you have is strength. The thing is," He chuckled, his fingers teasing Jade's top button of her shirt. "Is I know your legs work fine. You could probably kick me into the wall over there." He gestured to the far wall, the free wall, where the corridor to the elevator came from. "Maybe even get lucky with another dusting. But you won't. Because I have what you want. The thing you most fear to lose." His eyes flickered to Spike, who was pinioned and helpless against the bars. Much the same as Jade was, she thought hollowly. She couldn't look at him, not taking her eyes off of Elijah. "And so strength means nothing. It's all power. Power and privilege. Strength is your privilege. Power is what you take. And that's the difference between you and me. I know how to take."

And then he claimed her lips with his own.

 **AN:** _So NaNo is over, but I'm still going to try to keep up on writing! 100k words in 35 days isn't that bad, although writing will differ on how busy I am each week. Spoiler alert, work six days this week :(. As always, thank you so much to my reviewers, you guys motivate me so much to keep writing, and I look so forward to reading your reviews after each chapter post. So a special thank you to BarbyChan4Ever, xXbriannaXx, Vivi H88 and MarshWolffe for recent and continuing reviews, and to all my readers as well, I'm so thankful for your patience in my slowest of slow burns story. Also a slight warning, the story will take to its M content warning now as the story continues more than ever. I've always been pretty conservative with the language, not swearing that much, since I wanted to keep to the show's tone, and obviously, they didn't swear very excessively on TV back then, but as the situations go, I feel these characters would. And just more dark in general, angst loves to tag along when I write. I won't ruin it with any specific warning, just giving a heads up. Again, thank you for ongoing support, and I hope you continue to enjoy!_


	78. Chapter 77

**77**

He saw red. A blinding, vicious wave that incited the demon he always knew hadn't left him completely. Soul or not, it would always have its imprint, the memories of a century of bloodlust. And it renewed in full force now, the animal that was a part of him still. It had been rattling its cage since the bloody wankers had stormed into his cell full force. And he'd batted them away with half strength, getting in a good kick that had dropped a vamp, and another backhand that had caused another to stumble. But his distinct lack of a stake or anything to feed on the last couple days had left him undeniably weaker.

Left him a ponce that could be herded into the corner like the wild animal he was. And they'd scuffed him up good. Broke his bloody nose, and he'd tasted the blood as it dripped down his lips—waste bloody not. And he'd growled and roared and fully decided to take every second of this chance. Instead of being the one who was the sodding burden, he'd save the bloody girl for once.

'Cept Elijah got to her first. 'Course he would. She couldn't defend herself like that, and he saw her watching him through the bars, her wide blue eyes never leaving him. Hadn't seen the ponce come up until he was a hairbreadth away. And she stumbled to her feet and back, managing to stand as her crippled arms hung down like useless sodding curtains. Each time he saw them, anger curdled his blood, the way they'd snapped those small limbs and thought themselves mighty. He'd teach 'em.

But not now. His back was pressed into the bars, if they pushed him any further he'd become part of the bloody things. The stake to his chest was a sordid reminder he should back down, but he'd lost the already losing battle the moment his attention flickered to Jade. His anger had turned to apprehension for her safety, and he'd bloody lost his edge. Was his fault, gettin' distracted. Something that separated him from the demon. The demon wouldn't have given a bloody damn. But the animal did. The animalistic sense of possessiveness, a need to defend her as she was cornered by the smirking pillock.

He'd been bloody proud at her gall, but it wouldn't last. Only so much one could spit in the face of peril 'til they got a mighty backhand for their trouble. Not in Jade's case. No, it was much bloody worse. Elijah stepping up to her as if he had all the rights in the world, and he'd never seen Jade look so much like a trembling deer. Even meeting her crippled sis after runnin' to the rotten bottom cesspool to get away from her, she'd at least had enough spine to fight back. Here, she didn't have the means. Taken away from her, she was pressed back into the bars much like Spike was. Couldn't reach her, though. She was in the middle of the cage, and even if he tried to slip his hand through the bars without the too-touchy squad on him, he wouldn't be able to reach.

No, he was sodding useless here. Didn't keep him from pressing back at his oppressors and making them struggle for the quarter he'd given. He'd fought this many vampires before—musta, some point. But they weren't no weak-bellied vamps just newly turned wit'out a clue 'bout the world. These were tough arse holes, and he wasn't getting by.

Nothing he could do.

But watch.

Didn't stop him from throwing a slew of every British curse he knew. Slags, ponces, gits, wankers, pillocks, buggers, tossers, he exhausted every available swear he had.

Bloody Elijah didn't even blink. Neither did Lily. She was the only one not earned herself a visit, and she was just sitting there, all curled up. Shaking, fear bright in her expression as she watched with a fascinated horror, unable to tear her gaze away from Elijah.

Made Spike wonder just what the git had done to the girl. He didn't want to think about it. More than turned his stomach, it made him feel nauseated. More now, since he was imagining the same thing happening to Jade, and that hurt more than he ever thought possible. Elijah had reminded him of Angelus since the beginning, and with a vicious twist to his heart, Spike was beginning to understand why. Put the pieces together, and he'd pieced it together earlier but he hadn't want to think on it.

Now he didn't have much of a bloody choice as he saw Elijah leaning in towards Jade, reaching out and touching her, touching her face, down her full bottom lip.

And all he could think was that that was _his_ Slaypire, _his_ responsibility, he'd been the one to bring her here, somehow, like it was all his idea, like he goaded her into it, instead of it being on her own insistence. Somehow it was all his bloody fault, because Elijah was touching Jade, and she looked so pale, paler even than the near white complexion she normally had. Her wide eyes looked large and blue, vulnerable. Frightened.

And he couldn't even tell her in her mind that it was okay. Couldn't say a damn thing except curses and threats that Elijah didn't even acknowledge. He could hear every word that Elijah taunted her with, could see how her lips trembled even after Elijah's fingers left them, moving down to her exposed throat. And Spike was still pushing back at his bloody prison guards, taking another blow to the head that left his world spinning. He slumped then, back against the bars.

Giving him a fine ol' view to Elijah crushing his mouth to Jade's.

A roar burst from his throat, guttural and fierce, a slew of thoughts running through his head and none of them coherent. Jade was his responsibility. In his care. She was _his_ Slaypire, every bit of her awkwardness and foolishness, he didn't care. Didn't care that she was a softie, because somehow her weaknesses just made her more human, more good. And she was something that he didn't have to share with the others, didn't have to fight over her with the other Scoobies, no, she was his.

She was his.

The animal knew that. Spike knew that. Bloody fought it tooth and nail because it didn't help him think none, but now it was all he repeated in his head. And he'd been through this bloody song and dance before. Ran into Angelus shagging the bugger out of Dru, although never her crazy. She'd loved it, fawning over Angelus with that dazed smile, giggling about her Daddy and not being able to understand how it killed Spike. That Spike was just s'posed to understand. He supposed he did, years later. Hadn't been able to stop himself from loving Buffy, that was the sodding truth. And it was Dru who'd said that demons could still love without souls. Just not wisely. And that wasn't half as barmy as the bollocks she normally came up with.

But it was different. Dru loved Angelus, bugger knew why. She'd wanted Angelus. Jade didn't want this. Spike bloody knew it, knew it now, in the way she would look at him, and he shouldn't have been surprised to hear she was in love with him. Bloody do anything for him, she would. He'd seen that. More loyalty than the Scoobie crew had for him, no denying that.

He didn't know what he'd done to deserve that love from her, hell he'd been rot for so long, and the years he'd had with his soul back did li'l or nothing to make up for that, and weren't everyone fond of reminding him. Not her. Never her.

She didn't bloody deserve this, smashed up to the bars, her arms useless to protect herself. Her legs weren't moving either, and Spike knew that Elijah's threat from earlier was keeping her obedient, compliant. He could see her little hands curled into fists, and knew that must have bloody ached. Bloody hell. He couldn't watch this, couldn't tear his eyes away either. If she suffered, he suffered.

Been that way for a while.

Didn't mean he was goin' to stand there and bloody take it.

His hand smacked against the ponce who held the stake to his chest, causing him to stagger back. His elbow lurched up, shoving another in the face as he tried his very damned hardest to get himself off of the bars. The blood pounding in his ears, he barely heard the mumbling between Jade and Elijah.

"Control your pet," Elijah said to Jade. Spike headbutted another vamp, the both of them shrieking in unison, though Spike's thick skull fared better. He didn't know how long his vamp face had been on, if it had disappeared while he'd been playing pudding-in-the-bars, but it was back now.

"Or you'll kill him?" Jade sounded defiant again, disgusted. Breathless. "How many times are you going to threaten us with that before it loses its edge. Once you kill him, you have nothing on me."

Bloody right. There was nothing measured about his movement. It was fast, furious and desperate. He kneed a vamp in the groin and didn't think twice 'bout fighting dirty. Didn't matter now. The blow he took to his shoulder that rocked him near to his knees didn't matter. Getting trussed up like a slab of hanging, bloody meat wouldn't matter.

"That's true." Elijah's voice was calm, and oh, how Spike hated it. Wanted to rip the bloody git's vocal chords out. Never let him say another mocking word again. Though, likely, he'd just kill 'im. End it quick and move the sod on. "But if you think you're crippled, we could do worse to him. Gouge those eyes out that you find so captivating. You might still love the pathetic, deformed mess we'll leave him as, but you think he'd be able to live like that?"

She didn't have an answer for him. Defiance had run its course. Spike barely listened. The words he heard, but didn't connect. All it mattered was one thing, and that was getting to Jade.

And killing that Elijah.

He didn't have the chance.

"Spike, stop." Jade's thin, desperate voice filled his ears. She'd caved. He couldn't resent her for it, even as he was knocked to his knees. He had more in him. Could get back up. Tensed his knees to do so. If he was good at anything, learned anything, it was how to take a bloody beating.

"Please," She said again, and it finally reached him through his haze. Elijah had his hand around her throat still, touching her flesh, giving her no room to breathe even if she still needed to. Spike let out a pant he didn't need, feeling some of his blood drip down his floor.

"S'not over," Spike said, even as he raised his hands in the little white flag of surrender. His eyes sought out Elijah's, and this time, the black eyes decided him 'nuf of a threat to acknowledge him back. "'M going to kill you, wanker. Quit hiding behind your gits, 'n we'll see who gets the crown then."

"Interesting proposal," Elijah said coolly, uninterested. "I'll have to pass. You make trouble one more time, though, and you might find yourself lacking that tongue you so prize."

A strangled noise came out of Jade's mouth. "Don't, please." If she was saying it to him or Elijah, hard to tell. Likely both, as her eyes flickered between the both of them. Spike glanced down at his bloody hands, rather than take the desperation in her blue eyes. He supposed he'd only been allowed to hassle them as some sort of sick amusement to Elijah, but the fun was over and the threat remained.

And for Jade's sake, he'd obey. Hated it. Bloody hated it, watching Elijah with his hands all over her. At one point, Elijah had undone the top button of Jade's dress shirt. Now it travelled lower, to the next one. He felt sick. Couldn't look away, couldn't watch either. The next button, that was the fear. It revealed more than just her pale skin, but the bauble upon her skin, the small but unmistakeable shine. If Spike breathed, he'd be holding his breath. He knew Jade was the same, stiff, unmoving, locked in fear. There was her soul. Right there, out in the open, in reach of Elijah's fingers. Elijah reached out again, and Spike thought Jade would faint. She was frozen, unmoving, locked in her worst nightmare. But the bloody wanker, by whatever sodding grace left in the world, moved on, lower, ignoring the necklace, touching her skin instead.

"That's better." Elijah was smirking, turning his insidious expression towards Jade. She gave herself away by her light tremble, but nothing else. Her lips were in a straight, thin line, her eyes were clear. She didn't cry or sob, just quietly accepted it. He'd rather watch her be bloody defiant, rife with energy and rebellion. But there was something admirable about her quiet strength. She didn't blink, didn't beg. Not for herself. Prove that she'd bloody throw herself down on her knees for Spike. For anyone but her own damn self. But he'd done the same thing, now. Given up for her. "Where were we?"

"Power." Jade said blankly, looking far away from herself.

"That's right." Elijah smiled as if she was a pet deserving of an award. And maybe she was, in his twisted, fucking mind, because he'd undone another button, bringing his hands down the expanse of white flesh he'd revealed. And he shouldn't be touching her, feeling as he did, stroking the curve of her breasts that showed through her open shirt, the top edge of her black bra. Spike felt like he shouldn't have been looking either, that he was invading her privacy, but he wasn't going to turn a blind eye. Turning away didn't make it not happen. As much as he bloody wished.

"You have so much to learn," he assured her. "About real villains. And you might find you like it."

Spike watched Jade grind her teeth, her expression fleetly changing from dullness to contempt, and then carefully back again. She didn't answer, and Elijah slipped his hand between her bra and her skin, making a twisting motion with his hand. Spike didn't need x-ray vision to realise he'd pinched her nipple, likely hard. Jade tried to hide her wince by briefly closing her eyes.

"Well?" Elijah prompted. "Aren't you going to answer?" The hand withdrew, tugging at another button on her shirt.

Her eyes opened. They were a blaze, the color of fire, smouldering with her loathing. She appeared deferential and helpless, but her spirit was a raging fire, and for a long moment, those twin suns burned viciously at Elijah. Then the flame flickered, and whatever defiance she had gathered, she let dissipate. She had the discipline Spike never did, to rein in her anger instead of let it run rampant. She was smarter than him, in that way. He wanted the fire, proud of the fire, but he admired her restraint. It'd be out of his bloody reach, that was for damn sure.

"You're right." Jade sounded hollow, tired. Must have been a bloody mess of emotions at that point. Frightened to the point of nearly nothin' left. Spike was the same way. His nerves were wracked, and his eyes kept travelling to Jade's exposed soul, as he knew she was likely overtaken by the same thoughts. Frightened beyond belief, and every reason to be. Had her arms, and no way to protect herself, to stop him if he wanted to rip the necklace right off of her. But no, he was preoccupied with her instead, the parts of her body that Spike had seen before, when he'd first met her. When he'd tried bandaging up the damn near hole left in her. And he'd hadn't touched a thing. Seen the tattooed 'V' over her chest, as he saw it now, dark against the white palette. Didn't seem right for Elijah to get that privilege, not one bloody bit.

"Yes." Elijah answered matter-of-factly. "The one who's in power makes the rules, remember." He reached up to touch Jade's cheek now, as if it were an affectionate gesture, patting her for good work. "And don't fret. There's more to come. In time."

Then, as quickly as he had appeared, Elijah took a step back. The relief on Jade's face was at first palpable, and then quickly covered up, the same wariness that plagued Spike. The twisted git had already admitted he liked playing with people's minds, and Spike wasn't going to give him one inch of satisfaction by acting relaxed before it was time.

"Soon, you'll miss me when I'm not here." Elijah promised her. Took another step away, and he could see Jade stiff as a board, not quite daring to hope yet, but nearly there. And then the bastard took a step over to the cage where Lily stood. He snapped his fingers, and the Slayer hesitated, for only a second, pulling herself over to the bars. She was a wretched, wrecked thing, and pressed her face to the bars so that Elijah could grab her chin in much the same way he had touched Jade. The possessiveness didn't flare up in him this time, but the sickness did. He thought of Jade having to resort to that, her eyes as empty as Lily's were, and he fought back the urge to heave. He could see the same thoughts reflected on Jade's face.

But then he was leaving. Gone. He gestured to his minions and they left Spike where he was, more bruised and battered than he had been only minutes ago, although it seemed much, much longer. There was silence after the clanging had stopped, the cages locked, the elevator started up. Then there was a thud as Jade slid her way to the floor, a dazed, lost look on her face.

"Spike," She whispered.

Her voice clenched his heart, the sadness in it, the bloody agony, the confusion. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to comfort her. Bloody hell, didn't know where to begin. He pushed himself up and stumbled his way over to the bars, as close to her as he could imagine.

"Jade—" He said, and he was almost grateful she interrupted him, 'cuz he had nothing to make it better.

"Spike," She breathed, sounding awed. Excited, and confused all at once. Not at all the broken, dismayed aftermath he expected. She trembled with elation. "He saw it. My soul." She frowned, shaking her head to make the pieces fix. "He must have recognized it. I—I don't know why he wouldn't. He's the one who knew I had one. But he didn't take it." She was flabberghasted beyond words. It was her worst nightmare, and she had come away from it without the loss of her soul, and the fear was combatted by her confusion.

But he had an answer for her.

"He recognized it," Spike said, finding his own voice was weary. "But he knows. Knows he couldn't control y'with out it. That's why he said n'thing."

"Oh." Her question answered, she slumped back against the bars. The excitement she felt was now tempered by the experience seeping back to her. He knew how deep in her own head she got. Wouldn't let her do it alone.

"C'mhere," He said. Thought for a second that he might have phrased it as a bloody request, not a demand. Not after that. Should have been gentle, reassuring. But she didn't need it. Without a word, she pushed herself back up onto her feet long enough to walk over to him, press herself back to the bars near him.

"You alright?" He meant to say something, but Jade beat him to it. Her eyes bore through him, looking plenty at the cuts and bruises he'd just picked up. Her lips were red, he hadn't noticed it from as far away, but they were swollen with the strength of Elijah's sodding wankerage. Another flare of anger rose up in him, and he curled his fingers around the bars until his knuckles were white. Jade's eyes flickered down to his hands but didn't say anything.

"Right ticked I got my arse handled by those gits," Spike muttered honestly. "Should've been able to take 'em." And he should have. Maybe. Was a time he'd fought for the sake of fighting, and losing hadn't bothered him. Was what made him so good at it. No weak self-preservation—something even Angelus hadn't possessed. No, that wanker was all about winning. Wouldn't take a fight if it wasn't in his favor. But that had been how Spike lived. Unlived. Didn't give much care to whether he made it out or not. Changed in the last couple years of course, and then dissipated again when he was at his worst. When he'd went to live in Haven for a while, he'd been at the bottom of that barrel again, looking for the fire again. And now he found it, but he couldn't handle the burn like he used to.

'Cuz it wasn't just something that affected him anymore. Made it worse, of course, the way the two of them kept trying to protect the other. Gave Elijah the upper hand, that wanker, and he was more than willing to use it against them. Bloody waltzing right into his trap, they were.

"Could have been worse," Jade reminded him, in that quiet blink of her eyes, he knew she was grateful he'd stood down, even if he wasn't. 'Spose that Elijah would have made good on his threat, truss Spike up like some deformed thing if he had half the mind to. Would have been worth it though, if it meant Elijah never had the chance to lay his filthy fingers on Jade again. She might not think so, but he did.

He wasn't going to say that, however. Would just upset her more.

"What about you?" He held back the compelling urge to stroke her cheek then, something affectionate, soft. Try to make up for Elijah with something gentle. But he didn't know if that was best. If she wanted to be touched. If he even should.

She managed a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "I'm okay, now. I really thought he was going to take my soul." Tears gathered up in her eyes, ones she hadn't let fall throughout the whole bloody ordeal. Her lower lip trembled, then she stoically shook her head, blinking hard to make sure the tears never had a chance to drop, and when she spoke again, her voice was vulnerable, but steady. "I was scared."

"'M going to kill 'im," Spike promised her. The words tumbled from his mouth of their own accord, but he wasn't going to take them back. "Pound that wanker into the ground. Y'got my word."

Her eyes held his, those pale blue skies, which held a trace of melancholy and then gratitude, and this time, the smile that turned her lips weren't so forced.

"If I don't beat you to it." She said with as much humor as she could manage. Wasn't much, but it was an effort. And he knew she didn't want to talk about it, that she'd become embarrassed, think it was her fault when it bloody well wasn't. He knew defeat humiliated her, and this was worse. A defeat of a different kind, one that made her feel small and weak. And she was anything but. Well, mostly. She was pretty small, no denying that. But weak, never.

Her arms were still slumped at her side, unmoving. He'd seen her try to move them a couple of times, but the combined clunkiness of still healing limbs and the pain had deterred her each time. Her shirt was still open, and he knew she was private enough of a person to be embarrassed she couldn't do it up, a bloody reminder of Elijah's visit. He tried not to look. Was wrong. Tried not to notice the pale skin revealed, the curves of her small breasts. Wasn't overendowed in that area, but it was still pleasing cleavage, something she didn't often show, clandestine in its elusiveness. And he was such a wanker for thinking so, especially now. Made him no better than Elijah, taking advantage of the sight. Normally, he'd make no apology for his lewd behavior—was a male, after all—but not now.

"Come closer," he bid her, and again, she didn't hesitate, didn't freeze up like a startled rabbit. He'd worked his arms through the bars, and with only curiosity in her gaze, she obliged, pressed flush to the cage. "Don't move," he told her, and perhaps he could have given her a bit more than that, but he didn't know how to explain what he was doing and why when he could just do it. He reached out for her, and she didn't even bloody shudder. Such trust in those blue eyes, like Spike had never seen. It was adoration, the likes he had never experienced. Didn't seem like he deserved it either, but it softened his heart. He was no monster to her, and as much as he pretended to be just fine with that persona, truth was sometimes it was hard to live with himself, all the things he had done. Still did. Called himself an animal to make it right, but it wouldn't ever be, not truly.

He reached her neck, the top button of her shirt, and her eyes closed briefly, relaxed. Relaxed, somehow. He'd be more jittery than a bug in her place, but he calmed her.

Spike marvelled at that.

With one hand, it was a bit of a struggle, but he was deft enough that he did it up without too much time spent. The next button done up hid her soul again, and her shoulders lowered, eyes half-lid as they flickered between him and his hand. She was so calm, humming softly to herself. He could hear it, of course. Off-tune, like always. This was an classic tune, not old by his standards, but maybe by hers. He bit back a chuckle, shaking his head at her unexpected taste in music. American pie. He wondered if she knew the meaning behind the words. He did. Hell, he'd experienced some of it, and even his demon soul had twinged a bit in loss for Buddy Holly. Wasn't exactly his 'tunes, but that'd be a bit longer until the rock music he really liked came out into the air. Before, well, he'd had to make do. It was a bit melancholic, but she seemed happy, singing it to herself, so he didn't chastise her on a depressing tune. Just continued, slowly, methodical.

He neared the last button, where the shirt would sit a bit tighter over her. He grit his teeth, reminded himself not to be a wanker, and did it up as fast as humanly possible. Inhumanly possible, really, though he inadvertently brushed her breast as he did so. Hard not to, really. And it was the sore one too, the one that had suffered Elijah's ministrations. Just flared up Spike's anger thinking about it again, but other than the briefest of pauses in her quiet humming, Jade made no indication of pain or discomfort.

"There y'go." He said, his voice husky, low. So much for control, but it was easier now, with her all buttoned up right. No more guilt or any desire to get in the way. He knew how wrong it was, anyway. So he went to pull back his hand, and she let out the softest mewl of protest, her head off the bars to nuzzle his hand instead. And he complied, of course he had to. Couldn't refuse her, not now. Not likely any time soon. Be hard on her, that was it. He was just being a gentleman, and it wasn't about what he wanted, not a bit. Just for her sake, not his.

Maybe he'd believe it if he repeated it enough. Her cheek sunk into his knuckles, his thumb softly stroking her temple as her eyes closed.

"Thank you," She murmured. That was it. Nothing else. No tears, just a quiet restfulness as she leaned into his hand. And it was nice, for a moment. Forgot almost where they were and the danger they were in.

"'Course." Spike said, he wanted to say more. Some joke about her being no-armed and he felt sorry for her, but it didn't quite come to pass. "He'll pay for it, you know." Spike said instead, because his anger wasn't forgotten, even with her soft words and gentle heart, all he could think about was what Elijah thought he could get away with and his rage would build again. "With his dust."

"He'll get away with it," A voice sounded. Miserable, tinny. He'd forgotten about their third companion, but she spoke up now. The Slayer who decided to speak, but he found he had no irritation for her either. Devil only knew what'd been done to her, and he needed to give her some leeway, some consideration. He could do that, if he imagined Jade in her place.

"He does whatever he wants," Lily continued in her mournful voice. And Spike's frustration flared up again at the expression on Jade's face, which turned from calm to consternation, a mix of pity and apprehension. She'd just been calming down, and Lily's words mixed up the bad all over again. Worst time for her to decide it was time to speak up.

"Won't forever," Spike said back in a clipped tone.

"There's no stopping him," Lily continued, as if Spike hadn't spoken. "And one day you'll be grateful." Her words were said to Jade, who had turned her head away from Spike's hand to see Lily, and the air was no replacement. And then they got a look at the slow, perverse smile on Lily's face that chilled him to the bone.


	79. Chapter 78

**78**

Lily didn't say much more after that. A few phrases, but other than her frightening revelation, she kept to herself. Not quite talking to herself, but the silence was concerning enough. Jade wanted to help her and didn't know how. Nothing other than getting her the hell out of here, at least, although she was partly worried that Lily would resist them when the time come. She knew Spike thought the same thing, but so far he hadn't reneged on his promise that they'd rescue her. From Anya's partial memories, she knew about conditioning, and what it had done to Spike when the First Evil had gotten in his head. She hoped they weren't dealing with anything like that, but it was obvious that Lily had been deeply traumatized, and Jade knew Elijah was the main culprit.

Elijah. A mixture of disgust and shudders overtook her when she thought about him, so she tried desperately hard to push his image away. He'd been so proud of himself, so triumphant, watching her tremble. And no, she wasn't quite new to that kind of touch, not like she suspected Lily had been, but never with such vehemence. And not with someone she hadn't loved. Her left breast ached for a while where he had twisted her nipple, with not even the pretense of balancing pain with pleasure. It just hurt, although she admitted it wasn't as much as her broken arms. A few hours after his visit, he had sent some more lackeys with Kern at the head as the overseer to re-break them. Not as extensively as the first time, but it was still disheartening.

That was putting it lightly. Tender arms were aching hard, and Spike had re-set them right away. Seemed like they were going to break her arms again every two days, which didn't leave a lot of time for her to heal. The window for escape was closing each day, if it ever existed in the first place. They were waiting for someone to slip up, to make a mistake. When they'd come to break her arms, they'd come to her door first until Kern had growled at them in reminder to make sure Spike was properly threatened first. Not in so many words, but the stake up against his chest was enough of a translation. They throbbed now, a dull ache she was beginning to get used to. At least it helped with the fresh scent of blood that Lily reeked of after Kern's visit. The batty ancient visit had paid Lily a visit, although not in the vile way that Elijah might have. It was to drink of her blood, rasping his lips together with a pleased smacking sound and then Kern and his minions were gone.

That had been a day ago, and Jade hated the waiting game. The downtime she liked, when she could just talk with Spike and they did their best to distract each other, but there was always that apprehension, knowing that any second their peace would be shattered with someone walking through the door.

And there was something worse about the waiting. There was a different kind of pain that accompanied her now, hunger that stabbed at her belly and wasn't going away any more. The hollowness was beginning to stay, at first a distraction and then pangs. She was hungry, starving even. They hadn't offered them any blood, and she wasn't holding the breath she didn't need for it. Spike looked better than she did, still healthy. At least he wasn't complaining, but she knew she ran through blood faster than he did. Curse of a Slayer's high metabolism, her high strength required a lot of energy, and the amount of healing her battered body was trying to do wasn't helping either.

She still had strength though, in her legs. And more and more, she began to look at the cage on the other side, where she figured she could peel apart the bars with her feet and make space for herself. It was a treacherous fantasy, one that would replay more and more the hungrier she got. Slayer blood, now that would help. But she couldn't, wouldn't. That wasn't a line she would cross, but she hated how her thoughts would return to it more and more, taunting her. At least the pain in her arms were enough to distract her mind enough, and so was Spike. There was still pity in his cerulean eyes when he looked at her, but there was a fondness in there too, so she'd take it. There was no doubting that he cared for her, though it wasn't the love he had for Buffy. It was enough.

For as long as it lasted. As long as they lasted, here.

He'd told her the consequences of not feeding, due to her initial distaste of drinking blood. Living skeletons, he had said. And she was slim enough to start with. The last thing she wanted was to look even more inhuman, and the weakness that would follow.

But she was trying to conserve her energy, not moving much from the side of her cage that connected with Spike's, drifting in and out of sleep.

"How you doing, Super girl?" He asked her, breaking into her light unconsciousness. She blinked, wondering if it was the first time he had asked. He was watching her with a inquisitive expression, the light concern on his face endearing, giving him a softer, sweeter look. Endearing in every way, even when he didn't try to be. She bit back a sigh. She had it bad. She'd known it for a while, despite trying to refute it.

Worst thing was, he knew it now too. She couldn't pretend that away.

"Okay." She managed a wan smile, but how ghastly it looked on her pale face, she could only guess. "Think they'll drop off some pig's blood. I'd even take rats."

Spike grimaced. "Bloody disgusting, let me tell you. Even less tolerable than animal blood. Peaches and I would know all 'bout it. Not something I care to repeat." He looked thoughtful then, knowing just as she did that desperate times called for desperate measures. "Haven't 'eard any, anyway."

"Dang." She said half-heartedly. Her voice felt dry, closed up. She closed her eyes again, preparing to fall into another half sleep when there was a stirring of air by her face. She opened her eyes to see Spike's arm sticking through the bars.

"Jade," he said, and there was something serious he was going to say next, she could tell by his uncommon use of her actual name. "Got an idea."

"Oh?" She was awake now, blinking away her exhaustion and trying to distract herself from the hollow pains in her belly.

"'Bout how to get you something to eat." He was being ambiguous, drawing in her curiosity.

She sat up straighter, ignoring the ache of protest from her am. Mostly. She pursed her lips, brow furrowed as she tried to concoct a sentence containing 'how', 'where', or some sort of that mixture when he answered her beforehand.

"Y'can have some of my blood." And then, to sink the thought in, he brandished his bare, pale wrist in front of her, extending it out to her innocuously.

She didn't move. Just blinked, frozen. Couldn't quite get it through her head. "What?" She said, and it came out like a gasp. Spike shrugged then, his sinewy shoulders rising and falling.

"Know it's not as healthy. Most of the ol' fiber and what have you been used up. But not all of it. An' it's animal blood, just like what you've been drinkin'. I don't go through it as fast as your Super Girl metabolism does, an' I haven't had to heal as much either. I can spare some."

"Wha—Spike, I can't take your blood." His offer was magnanimous but the thought of it just seemed…wrong. She'd only drunk from jars and cups all this time, never an actual person. Even if he wasn't the living, breathing, heart-beating type. It was even worse, because it was Spike, and he'd ask her to drain his strength to help her regain hers. But she couldn't take his blood, his life source, just because hers was running dry. If anyone was going to get them out of here, it was likely to be the one who had his arms intact anyway. And she just couldn't. Couldn't fathom draining, hurting him. It was Spike. She wouldn't let him sacrifice.

"Yes y'can. You sodding need to. Stuck in a rut, you 'n me. They're running circles 'round us. Y'need blood."

"I can't take yours," her voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Y'have to." His eyes narrowed, a glint to them. "We been doin' this all wrong. You lookin' out for me, me lookin' out for you. Won't work with them. Gotta trust that the other person'll pull out alright or we won't make it. Worrying makes us weak. Now you gettin' better is our best bet."

She chewed her bottom lip, not with the same voracity that had torn the skin when she had her arms broken. That had healed, the skin patched up in time for Elijah to kiss her brutally. Kiss didn't even seem the right word for it. It didn't have a sweet intention, not one bit. Was just an act of domination, one that Elijah could take with no qualms about losing the balance of power in his favor. And Spike was right. They were so focused on protecting each other that it had just gotten them into this mess. But it was how she worked. Protect those that couldn't defend themselves. But Spike _could_ defend himself. She had to trust him about that. And trust him now, his wrist still outstretched, waiting.

"Y'did this for me once, remember?"

His words crashed into her head, followed by memory. She'd nearly forgotten. When first she met him, trying to stop Fyora and her cult mages from taking the children. Jade'd been hurt, bad, and she'd been chained to the wall, with Spike. Thought she was going to bleed out, so she'd dragged up her ankle to him to give him some of her blood. Some of her strength, and a chance to escape. She hadn't except to live. Maybe she hadn't wanted to, not then. Apathy had been her closest companion then, but he had saved her. And she was glad. Given her another chance to help the orphans. She'd also been astonished at his control, that he let her live. She'd given him that opportunity as a stranger, but they were more than that now. And he was offering her the same thing, with the same reasoning that she had used in her own head. Give the strength to the one who can make a difference. It was her own damn logic, and he was reminding her of that, gently, but firmly.

"Okay. You're right. Okay." The words tumbled out in beat with her head nodding up and down. "You'll stop me when it's too much?" She wasn't a good gauge for how much blood she could take. Had never tried it with a body before, even if vampires didn't have a specific quota, a total they had to keep at all times. But Spike nodded.

"'Course."

She stole one last look at his trusting blue eyes, the ones that stared through her so completely she was sure she was transparent, nothing but glass. She glanced once over her shoulder a bit self-consciously, seeing that Lily was staring at them with transfixed curiousity, her dark eyes not blinking. Looking back at Spike, Jade closed her eyes as she felt her forehead grow bumpy and her fangs descend. His blood wouldn't be as fresh as newly delivered pig's blood, she knew that. Nutrients seeded out through his body already, but it was something. Something to line her empty belly. So she brought her teeth to his smooth wrist. She had a second of regret that she hadn't drunk from an actual vein before—if she had some skill with it then she wouldn't have to worry about making a garish mess. She could just be efficient and meticulous. Well, that wasn't going to happen, much as she was going to be careful, she wouldn't be as fastidious as Spike would be. She steadied his arm with her raised knees, sandwiching it carefully to help steady his arm, bringing his wrist towards her mouth.

Looking for those blue veins standing out from his ivory skin wasn't hard. It was like a patchwork of tunnels, an intricate design. His palm was open, but she could see two of his fingers tremble ever so slightly. It probably wasn't as easy for him as he pretended it was, to wait for her to take his blood and rip into his skin. She wasn't doing him any favors by waiting then, just as he hadn't spared her much time to think about it when he had re-set her arms for her.

So no more hesitation. She wouldn't be a coward.

She was surprised by how easily her fangs ripped through his flesh. She'd used them against some animals, during their road trip, but never with a human. There, she had used her powerful strength to make sure her fangs could break the surface, but now it was the barest of pressures that broke the skin and allowed his blood to come to the surface. And her hunger would allow her no further reluctance, as soon as his blood was within reach, touching her tongue, her inhibitions broke down and she took in a deep mouthful.

Then she heard his gasp, like a hiss of pain, and she couldn't help it. She broke contact immediately, retrieving her fangs from the small gash she'd made, and though she licked her lips to not waste a trace of blood on her mouth, glancing concernedly at Spike. His eyes were closed, lips tight together, cheekbones even more pronounced with his lower cheek sucked in.

"Spike? I'm sorry, I—"

"Not pain," Spike said, his voice hoarse.

"Oh." She was grateful that she didn't have the capability of blushing. She'd forgotten about the euphoria that could accompany a vampire's bite, the pleasure that accompanied, or rather happened prior to, the pain. She had felt it briefly when Mandy had bitten her, although her memory of those events were pain-filled and hazy. She'd given up, then, no longer able or wanting to struggle, succumbing to that fateful bite. What made her what she was today, a vampire. She'd been bitten once before that, very briefly. She'd led vampire Bennett to believe that she was giving up—she had nearly believed it herself—but as his fangs had scraped her skin, she'd staked him. And she hadn't remembered now, its effect on the victim, as Spike lightly shook his head to clear it and opened his crystal blue gaze. He wavered a little, uncertain, seeming to take some effort to right himself.

"'M fine," he told her. "Just been a while. Go on. Y'need more than a sip. I can spare more than that."

"You sure?" She asked with hesitation, but her hunger already had her bowing back towards his wrist. It wasn't fully-invigorating, salubrious blood, but it _was_ blood, and it was better than nothing. And it was Spike's.

"Yeh." He managed, and another groan tore from his throat when Jade brought her lips back to the fissure. Her vamp face had dissipated in her confusion, but she no longer needed the fangs to tear a hole. Hungrily but gently, she sucked the blood from his wrist, as slowly as she could force herself to be. She drunk deeply, anything to stem the still present hunger in her stomach. Her knees unthinkingly tightened to keep his arm still, steady, even though he wasn't fighting her. He wasn't fighting her, but his free hand had reached up to touch her shoulder, as if in position to push her back, but there was no weight behind his grip, fingers resting like a butterfly on her arm. But his gentle touch did little to break into the bubble that surrounded her, this barely satiable hunger that accompanied each deep gulp she took.

There was an energy from it, from consuming his life force and making it her own. Wasn't warm blood by any means, but it was to her, the chills she had gotten from her slow starvation momentarily halted. And she was gentler now, that her teeth weren't worming their way through his veins, that she could just delicately and humanly drink from his offered wrist. She wasn't perceptive, wasn't aware of much other than the act of feeding, not Spike's grip tightening on her shoulder, or how the pained grunts sounded close to moans.

"Bloody Mary," Spike said then, in a breathy pant that would make more sense if he was human, if he had air to breathe. His arm was beginning to shake more, and she tightened her grip to steady his wavering.

"Jade." He said, firmer. He squeezed her shoulder then, just tightly enough to send a tremor down her broken arms. The pain was an annoyance, and she aimed to brush it off, frowning a bit. Just a bit more.

"Jade." It wasn't that he had said her name again, increasing in anxious, but rather the actual, sound of pain that slipped from his lips thereafter that that slipped her from the haze she'd been shrouded in. Realisation shot like a sharp pain through her, and she snapped her head up, away from his wrist, hastily licking the last of the blood off of her teeth and lips.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," She blurted then, and this time she had a reason to, sinking into a near stupor with her eagerness to eat. But she had kept it up, even at Spike's insistence. She shook her head to clear her vision, looking at Spike now. He looked paler, tired. Guilt and regret shot through her. "Spike, I—"

"Y'did fine." He held up a hand to stop her. "I can handle it. Told you. Y'didn't take too much, Super girl. Don't grieve yourself over it." He looked weary, a guarded look in his blue eyes as he shifted himself up into a sitting position, no longer touching the bars. Her heart fell. She'd hurt him, and despite him telling her that she hadn't taken too much, he was probably just telling her that to make her feel better—

"Stop," Spike insisted. "I can tell the gears in your head are just a-turning." He gave her a smirk that gained enough strength to look amused. "Just need a minute. Y'drained me, is all. Don't 'spect me to do cartwheels, but you exactly what I wanted, so don't worry your noggin. An' stop with the guilty eyes."

He meant to reassure her, and it did work. She found herself relaxing, her shoulders no longer as tense. He had that effect on her, when he wanted to. Comforting her with that low, easy voice. She nodded dimly.

"Feel better?"

"Yes," She answered honestly. She did. She wasn't full, or even comfortably full by any means, but she was no longer pained by her hunger. It was just a reminder that would show its ugly head again, but they'd beaten it back, for now. But she was also aware that this wouldn't work again. Spike had his own injuries, own hunger that would use up the rest of his blood sooner rather than later, and she doubted they'd suddenly decide to start feeding him. That'd be too easy.

"Good," Spike answered, satisfied. "Then it went alright." He brought his still injured wrist up to his own mouth and licked it. It was such a reasonable action, at least to them, the vampires they were. They couldn't waste and blood, not now, and while it wasn't trickling out, there was still some blood on the surface. It was logical, that was it. But it seemed like such a sensual act, somehow, putting his lips and tongue where hers had been just a minute ago, his eyes holding her own as he licked the last of the traces away.

She shuddered, warmth flickering in her belly as a betrayal. She shouldn't be this captivated by him. Not with her heart out in the open and his still decidedly Buffy's. Should have been able to tear her eyes away, not experience envy.

"It hurt, though." She couldn't help but saying, not quite able to blanket her own guilt.

"Not much," Spike responded with a shrug. "Always goin' hurt a tad. Nothing to fret over." They sat in silence for a while, and his lip twitched, followed by a displeased chortle he tried to bite back.

"What is it?" She asked, curious. His expression changed to reserved, but there was a hint of embarrassment there too that caused her to push, convinced it couldn't be that bad even when he shook his head.

"'S Nothing."

"Come on," She needled him. "You were laughing at something."

"Damn, woman," he sighed, exasperated. "Jus' thinkin' of when I was turned, alright?" He made a face. "Kept my cool fo' about two seconds and then I yelled out 'ow' like a sissy." He blanched. "Bloody embarrassing."

"Well, I mean. It did kill you," Jade pointed out, matter-of-factly, "I think you're entitled to an 'ow' in that situation."

He scowled lightly, not convinced. "A man 'spose to take it with a bit more gusto than that," he disagreed. She decided not to push him anymore, finding his self-humiliation both amusing and endearing. He acted the tough guy so often, but the truth was, he was just as often a goof. The thought was so lightening, she almost forgot for a moment where she was.

She was looking at him for a long moment, not realising that she was smiling until Spike frowned at her.

"Now you're the one laughin'," Spike accused, defensively. "Can't keep it to yourself. I spilled."

"Oh, nothing," Jade said, breaking out of her reverie. She hastily worked to add to her answer as Spike's pout deepened, the platinum blonde vampire feeling cheated. "Just thinking about what he was like. William. You." She corrected.

"He was a poncy bugger," Spike responded immediately, but his voice wasn't so stern and curt that she felt bad about being honest. "Y' might have liked him." Spike added then, his voice lower, more sincere. "Big ol' softie. Like you."

"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or insulting me." Jade confessed.

Spike's eyebrow twitched. "Good."

The rest of the night—day, really—there was nothing. No visits from anyone. Jade had no watch on her writs or clock to look at, so she wouldn't even had been able to tell the time of day if it wasn't for Spike's inherent vampire instincts—ones she still had yet to hone. But it was the vampires' downtime, and so there was nothing. Jade had spoken with Spike for a while, on-and-off conversations, but nothing from Lily. She had rebuked all efforts for discussion and had been staring at the wall for the last hour after she had woken again. Jade didn't want to push her, and had let her be. Spike had told Jade to 'get some kip', still wanting her to expend as little energy as possible, even with the food she now had in her stomach, and she didn't argue. Aloud, anyway. All she did was sleep, and she didn't want to spend more time in her tumultuous dreams than she had to.

And she wanted to look at him. It calmed her, just seeing him there in her peripherals. He seemed more like marble now than he ever did, his skin pale and drawn, slight redness under his eyes. She wondered how she looked, and her first errant thought was that she was glad there were no mirrors, and then a second thought about how she was a vampire and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. No reflection for her, although she was seen in cameras and video recorders just fine. And that was another thing on the list to tick off, the escape list. Jade wanted to destroy that tape they'd made her record. Destroy the tape, the potentials table, get the list of those they planned on turning, rescue Lily…

Stake Elijah.

Didn't have to be a stake. Just anything that involved his dusting. Spike wanted the pleasure of doing it, she knew, but she'd take that from him in favor of a quick, certain death. No dragging it out or making a risk of it. If there was a chance, he'd be dead. But if vengeance put them in more danger, then they would leave Elijah. It was something that Spike would oppose, violently, so she hadn't mentioned it. Let him think he'd be the one to get revenge, a sure thing.

"Alright, if y'can't sleep, at least don't pretend. You give yourself away. An' you don't even breathe," Spike scoffed from where he sat, next to the bars. His tone was chastising, but not cruel.

"So my acting skills leave something to be desired," Jade shot back, and there was a slight silence, where she was reminded with guilt that that was probably why they'd gotten into this mess, and he searched for a comment that would reassure her, instead of something joking. "How are you feeling? Did you get any sleep?" She asked instead, to spare him.

He shrugged. "Better. And a bit. Nothin' to write home 'bout, but 'nuf. Time's running out, though. 'Til they come 'round again and we don't have blood to spruce you back up."

She knew that, but it still chilled her to hear it from him. "I know that. We just have to wait. Try something the next time they get here." Her arms were still all but useless, but they had only so much time before they'd be broken again, and at least they were feeling better now than right after. They _did_ heal swiftly, although not nearly as fast as she wanted. "Make a plan, I guess."

"Hate plans," he complained, his handsome face twisted into an impish expression.

She couldn't help but smile, his humor defusing the seriousness with such ease. "I know that much, but—"

She stopped as a suddenly strained look took over his face, and Spike visibly stiffened, looking even paler than he did a moment ago, his eyes fixed on a point over her shoulder.

"What—"

"Jade, don't breathe in," Spike instructed her in a serious tone if she ever heard it. The specifics of 'vampires don't breathe' didn't jump into her head, for it was the same warning Spike used each time he didn't want her to use her sense of smell. And that only meant one thing: blood.

He told her not to breathe but didn't tell her not to look, and he couldn't warn her quickly enough not to follow his gaze. She twisted her head around to see for herself. And it was a mistake. The sight of it was enough to turn her stomach—but not just with unease. Hunger. And though she didn't breathe in explicitly, she could still taste the barest hint of it on her tongue. Metallic, succulent. More than Spike's used blood was, this was nectarous, tempting in a way that even normal human blood wasn't. Slayer blood. And she'd scented it before, right in front of all the vampires when they'd tempted her with Lily the first time around. And she'd rejected it then, the hardest part being that she had to come up with a tangible, believable lie.

That wasn't the hardest thing now.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Spike snapped, and his voice was cold and furious like Jade had never heard. She took in the sight before her, all the specifics. Lily standing there, her body flush to the bars on the opposite side of Jade's cage. Her arm offered out, past the bars, in much the same way that Spike's had been, her wrist offered, defenseless. And then, unlike Spike's, there was already a cut, self-inflicted, fresh, that split the pale skin and offered fresh, beating blood that dripped past Lily's wrist and onto the floor. The gash was ragged, and Lily's other hand's thumb was bloody. She'd dug at herself with a nail.

"Get back in your sodding cage!" Spike repeated, a desperate side to his anger. He reached out to Jade then, but she was standing. When had she stood up? When had she taken a step away from Spike and towards Lily? "Put some pressure on that, y'bint. Do you even know—"

"You need blood," Lily breathed, trembling. All her conviction was in her offered wrist, and she seemed barely able to stand, having gathered all her courage. "Not vampire blood. Slayer blood. My blood. Take it. Take it all, please. End it. You can escape. Just take my blood. Please."

Lily was wanting to be the sacrifice.

That was Jade's last controlled, rational thought.

Then.

There.

Was.

Hunger.


	80. Chapter 79

**79**

It was all sodding unravelling. Not that it had been a bloody brilliant plan. Hadn't been a plan at all, all thought out and what have you. Not that he had an aversion to those types of plans—alright, he did—but because they couldn't formulate anything that extensive. Wasn't that sodding easy. They were in the unknown. Had to wait for the big bads to make the first move, which put them at their bloody mercy. Was what got them in here, but it was all they could do. Had to react, and hope it was sodding good enough.

But he'd tried to give them a leg up. Tried to give Jade a leg up. Offered her his blood, which wasn't as nearly as sodding helpful as it would have been had he been human—still, thank God he was not—it was something. And she'd been hesitating, but just barely. He knew she was damn near ravenous, and he'd helped only a little. Still, it'd helped. Had been a completely selfless act on his part. At least it started out that way.

Then she'd sunk her fangs in, and yeah, he knew the vampire side of it. Knew the thrill of hunting—still remembered it, despite his years of being chip-neutered and then soulful—and the taste of blood flowing into his mouth, invigorating and bloody bracing. Knew his blood must be a shoddy replacement for that, but he'd forgotten. Forgotten what it was like to be the victim. The bloody euphoria of it, the helplessness of being pinioned beneath powerful fangs. Feeling them drink. An' he'd felt his blood splitting off into two sodding directions, to his wrist for Jade and to his bloody groin. Damn him, but he was only a man and sometimes less, but being fed off of made him hard. Embarrassment at that wasn't in his normal behavior. No, if it were anyone else, he'd leer and unrepentantly show it off. He wasn't the one to apologize for his character, no, he'd make a good ol' show out of it. But not with her. And it wasn't as if she was a timorous little beastie, although she was bloody shy from time to time, and he'd made her blush plenty when she was still human. Liked doing that, too. But not now. Felt like a bloody mixed message, and it damn well. Didn't want her to know, so he shifted his legs instead, tried to act like her pulling the blood from his arm wasn't undeniable pleasurable. So much so that he'd ignored the pain for as long as damn near possible, until he knew she was on the verge of taking too much.

Then he'd stopped her. She seemed as reluctant to let go as he was, but he couldn't let up. Didn't want to be a burden, and if she took too much, he'd go through severe starvation as she had been getting up to. She'd squeezed his arm tight too, trapping her. Hadn't wanted to stop her, but he had to. And then she had let go, with those apologetic blue eyes, wide and innocent. Had no idea he was hiding a bloody hard-on. That he found the whole thing enjoyable. Bit perverse, likely, but part of the whole feeding process. Victims didn't struggle as much if they were having a grand ol' time. Spike hadn't struggled. Hadn't wanted her to stop, but his noggin had reared its sensible head for once, so he had to listen to that one. But damn if it took him a moment to get over the slight shakes through his system, half due to the sudden blood loss, and also to his excitement.

'Course, couldn't let her know. She'd be more embarrassed. Feel like she had been taking advantage of him, but she hadn't. She just bloody well needed to feed, is all, and that's what had happened. And he didn't need to feel guilty either, thinking he was betraying Buffy. He wasn't. Wouldn't do that to the blonde, even if he had a hard time thinking of her now, with Jade so near, with her licking the last bare traces of his blood off of her already red lips. Bloody tease, but she was so unaware. Didn't realise what it was doing. But he had. Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he'd licked slow and purposefully. Meant to get a shudder out of her, the pleasured kind, and he did. Yeah, he still had it. Couldn't feel triumphant for long, because then he reminded himself of what a bastard he was. Teasing her, teasing himself.

So he'd let the conversation steer onto something safer. Smalltalk, really. Nothing deep, which was normally fine with him, but his mind was sinking so far into all the bloody conundrums and confusion building up that it didn't help him any. Didn't help to see her smile and relax.

So he'd insisted she try to sleep, and he closed his own eyes for a bit, but his own reach for a kip was far beyond him, and he'd just sat there, thinking instead. The exact opposite of what he wanted. Like he needed more time to stew and brood. Turning into Angel. He shuddered. So yeah, he'd been glad when she stopped pretending she'd gotten any more rest and starting talking to him again. Trying to formulate a way of getting out of this mess, because there was no bloody way he was spending the rest of his never-ending days in a cage.

Then the Slayer had to bollix it all up. He'd noticed her slight movement, saw the fact that she was stopping her hugging-knees routine to walk over to bars next to Jade's cage. Been about to say something that wasn't entirely as snarky as what he normally said, something maybe even encouraging, although he would have deferred to Jade, because she was the adopting sad puppy type, not him, when he'd seen drag her hand across her wrist and the pungent odor hit the air. Pungent and mouth-watering, the delicious, unmistakeable scent of Slayer blood. He remembered Xin Rong, how she'd tasted. Shared that with Dru, too. And of course, Buffy. The tiniest taste of Buffy's blood had been what he needed to break the First's control on him. And Jade. He'd thought her barmy when she damn neared killed herself faster to give him her blood so he could break free of the chains that held him fast.

Slayer blood was legend—well, not as much anymore. Not with over a thousand of the bints running 'round. Lot more Slayer of Slayers now, but _he'd_ done it when there was just the one. Big bloody difference. But he still thought about it from time to time. He'd been better with controlling his blood lust, better than Peaches, for bloody sure, and better than fledgling Jade. But even his own mouth watered from time to time with the memory. Like it was watering now. Half-drained and damn near weak, and even he was tempted.

But for Jade, it would be unbearable. His blood had barely scratched her hunger. Just enough to tide her over for a while, but no bloody mistake, he hadn't erased the void. Just eased it a little. Not enough. Not for this. His fear for Jade and his fury at Lily's impetuous, youthful _stupidity._ Bloody Slayers and their incontrovertible bloody death wish. Bloody, bloody hell. There Lily was, waving her arm around like it was a bloody steak, and Jade was up on her feet like a blur. He'd scrambled up too, stretching out to grab her, but she was already out of reach. His protests stewed in his throat. Lily's confession left him dumbfounded, til he saw Jade take a step, and then another as she was bare meters away from her target.

"Pull your arm back, you bint!" Spike snapped at her, frustrations and desperation piling in his tone. This is what they needed. He knew that. There needed to be sacrifice sometime. Bloody necessary. Didn't he know it. Got himself called a champion 'cuz of it. His blood wasn't enough, not to satiate her, not to power her. Slayer blood would. Even a drop, but Lily wasn't going to insist on a drop. She wanted it to be every last bit. Spike could see it in her eyes. She didn't want to live no more. The horrors she'd experienced had tipped the bloody scale, and she was off her damn rocker. Flipped her gourd, but her stupid gut was steadfast enough that she wouldn't step away. Even if she could, from a ravenous Slaypire that could bend the bars with her feet.

Reason told him to keep his mouth shut. Let Jade feed off of Lily, and it increased their bloody chances. Hell, he'd even do it. If it was his cage next to hers, and not Jade's, he'd have himself a lick. Knew how to stop. If he learned anything, is that Jade wouldn't be able to. Not now. Not as hungry as she was. Vampires weren't bloody sharks, but that didn't mean it was easy to stop halfway through. Especially for those who had a hard time controlling their hunger.

And it was a line. A line she'd worked so bloody hard not to cross. Probably one of the things that tipped off Elijah and ol' bat face about Jade's true allegiance, but still. She'd worked her arse off, tried so damn hard to keep herself from tasting so much of a drip of human blood. Knew that tasting it would make resisting it in the long run all that worse. But still, it was more than reason. It was her sodding morality, as much as sometimes he scoffed at her for it, he admired it in her. She was the white knight, damn it. The one who should don the superhero cape and rescue kittens out of trees. She tried so bloody hard not to be a vampire. To be good and human, and she was. She bloody was.

And she wouldn't forgive herself for this. Even more if it left Lily cold and empty, which seemed the girl's intention.

She took another step.

"Jade!" Spike shouted, his voice reverberating in the cave-like room. "Don't bloody do this, woman. Y'don't want to do this."

She stopped then. Turned her head towards him. She wasn't a zombie, lumbering senselessly towards fresh meat. Her eyes were bright with tears. Tears. Ones that hadn't fallen during her arms being broken, or during wanker Elijah copping a feel, but now. They slipped from her sparkling blue eyes and coated her alabaster cheeks.

"But I do. I want it so bad." A sob rose in her throat. She pivoted back towards Lily. "Why?"

Lily's bottom lip trembled, her extended arm wavering. "The things… that they… he." She licked her cracked lips, vulnerable, young. Just sixteen bloody years old. Same age as Buffy when Spike'd first fought her. Buffy held herself with a strength that was damn-near unique. But Lily here, she looked just the child she was. "He." She gulped. "Did to me." She shook her head uncontrollably. "He's there in my head. Telling me how disgusting, I am how—I just can't. I can't go back to my family now. My parents."

Jade took another step, her hands clenched. Bloody painful, that must be.

"'S'not bloody over!" Spike broke in. Tried to convince the sodding girl. Couldn't throw her life away. Not at Jade. Even if he understood it. Seemed like her parents had been bloody controlling, from what she mumbled to Jade, and hell, he got it. Chinese culture and all that, they'd wanted her to get a good education, not go off tumbling and fighting monsters. Wanted her to make something of her life, not have a short one. And here she was, bloody irony in human form.

"You can go back." Sounded like Jade was forcing out each word. She was trembling where she stood with the effort to keep herself still. She was within reach now. Just bring her mouth to the waiting arm of Lily, and she could do it. Heal herself. Give Lily her wanted ending. And part of Spike still wanted her to do it. Wanted Jade healthy and strong again. Get them out of here and end his guilt. But it wouldn't end his guilt, knowing how it'd torment her. He couldn't be selfish. Not this time. Couldn't give her that acquiescence she wanted.

"Jade, luv. Just ignore the chit." Easier bloodier said than done. Like waving a cooked turkey in front of a starving homeless man, who the bloody hell could resist that. And she made no show that she'd even heard him. Nothing in front of her but food.

"I can't go back," Lily replied tearfully. "I can't see them again, they wouldn't understand, they'd be so… disappointed. They'd never want to look at me again. I can't go back. Please, please."

"Why!" Jade shouted the question, shouted it like a cry, her voice hoarse and torn. "Why would you do this? Why?" Her hands trembled. He'd never seen her so anxious, but what the hell could anyone expect, all the bollocks they'd gone through the last couple of days. She'd been through the sodding ringer. A starving, fledgling vampire who had a Slayer waving her bloodied arm at her. There was fury and frustration and self-loathing in Jade's voice.

"I've worked so hard," Jade whispered. "I've worked so hard!" She repeated the sentiment in a desperate roar. Her leg flew out, foot hitting the bars next to where Lily was standing. They bent like a clay pillar, and Lily had the grace to flinch.

"Come on," Jade begged. "Don't do this to me."

"I want this to be over," Lily said back, in an answering sob. "I don't… want to live like this anymore. Even if I get away, he'll always be there," her uninjured arm went to her head, fingers kneading her tangled, chaotic hair. "I can't live like this."

"Yes you can!" Jade began to pace. Never turning her head from the offered sacrifice. She didn't have the strength for that, but she paced the length of Lily's cage, always in reach of the arm, always watching, moving so fast she was a blur that even Spike's eyes could barely keep up with. "You can live. You can get out with us. We can escape, together."

"I don't want to. I don't want to live anymore."

"Well, what gives you the right?" Jade all but screamed. She was a mess of nerves, a trembling wreck who could slice through those bars like they were butter. Even if Lily backed up now, the bait was set. Bloody signed her own death warrant.

And Spike couldn't help. Couldn't hold Jade, calm her down. His arms ached with the urge to. If he could just step to her, he could comfort her, get her through this. He'd bloody well try, at least. Throw himself in the way like a bloody sacrifice himself, she'd stop then. But he couldn't help her. Couldn't wipe her tears away. He'd never seen her this anxious, never so stressed. She never stopped moving, her eyes never leaving her target, the bloody, offered wrist. The small gash that wouldn't cause Lily to bleed out, just enough to present fresh drops. Jade didn't even have the excuse that Lily would bleed out one way or another. If the bint put some pressure on her arm, stopped the bleeding, she'd live. Not that that was something to brag about, living in a cage like a sodding animal. And she'd been like this for, what had they said, weeks? Months? Enough to turn anyone barmy, and it'd turned Lily on her head.

"How dare you." Jade spat each word with vehemence. Another jerk, and she had swivelled again for another fast, uncontrollable pace. "How dare you do this. To me. To yourself. After everything. You can't let it happen." The tears were just coming now, slick down her cheeks, and she choked her words with sobs. "He did this to you. He tried to break you. And you do it, you'd do it to me. You'd take me down with you. You can't. You can't. He doesn't get that right. He doesn't get to hurt you and break you and break us and he doesn't get to win. They don't get to win!" She jerked her chin up at the roof, the movement her fingers couldn't make.

She was furious, the ball of fire he'd seen in her eyes when Elijah was in front of her. But there was no restraint now, nothing to keep the veil in place, and all it came tumbling out.

"They don't get to win, but they will because I'm so hungry. I keep telling myself. A drop. Just a drop that's all I need. And then I can stop myself. But I won't. I can't stop, I wouldn't be able to. And even if I could. Even if it was all I needed to heal up. To fix my arms and get us all out of here. All of us. It's still one drop! One drop I promised I wouldn't have. I won't, I won't!" She pressed herself into Lily's bars, on the other side of Lily. She let out a pained roar as she pushed the bars back in with her knees. The violence on their cages were the only thing keeping her from using that same aggression on Lily, on flesh and blood.

"You know, it's not over. You don't get to give up. I don't know all he did to you, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry and I'll make him pay for it, but you don't get to give up. You don't get to decide that you don't want to fight today—you are a _Slayer_. We are Slayers. Didn't ask for it, and all I lost because of it, I hated it sometimes. Like it was some curse. Maybe it is. But we don't get to give up. We're the only ones. Weight of the fucking world. On our shoulders."

"You think your family won't take you back? That they'll be disgusted or won't understand. That you didn't know how to say no, not that you didn't have a choice, well they damn well will take you back! That's what families do. They love. They love unconditionally, that's their job." Her tiny body was wracked with convulsive shakes as she took another pass by Lily. "And maybe you're right. From my experience, family can be pretty shitty. So maybe they won't take you back. But that's not the only family you get. You have thousands of sisters. Slayers. They'll be your family. They'll understand, and they'll help you and they'll pick up the pieces and they'll remind you that you're not broken and alone. That you're not alone and not so broken. They'll do that for you. You're one of them. They won't give up so don't you give up." Jade took a breath she didn't need, the words tumbling out of her throat, more than Spike'd ever heard her say in a single sodding sitting. Her words are eloquent, her delivery isn't. Stutters and sobs and breaths breaking in the words, rambling more in pure unadulterated thought. No filter there, no rational restraint. Barely able to control her hunger, she sacrifices her mouth instead. Saying whatever comes into her head.

And all he could do was watch, mesmerized. It's no fancy speech that Buffy would say. Jade's is chaotic and jumbled, jumping from one thought to another. Definitely wouldn't make a bloody politician, that one. But he's proud. And for the first time since Lily presented her wrist on-a-bloody-platter, there's hope there. Hope and faith in her. Never should have left him.

"Come on. This doesn't break you," Jade continued. Her words could have been to herself, and maybe they are, maybe she'd just cut Lily out of the picture and her whole monologue was to herself. "He doesn't win. We do. We win, and we get out of here, all of us." Despite her words, Jade stepped back up in front of Lily, halting her pacing. Her arm stretched out towards Lily, their fingers touching. "We win. Come on. Please. Let me win. Just this once."

Lily's eyes are staring, black holes that are just as transfixed as Spike's are. Tears have still fallen down her face, silent tears as the sniffling stopped. "I can't go back," Lily whispered, with the conviction she had before vacant. Instead, she's waffling, Spike can bloody tell. Jade had almost won her over, but not there yet. Spike couldn't relax, and neither had Jade.

"Forward," Jade whispered. "You can go forward. Please. Help me. I can't do this alone. You can pull my sleeve off. Rip it, and use it to bind your wound. And then get as far back in your cage as you can. And I won't. I _won't_ break in." She said it like a promise. It was a promise. "I'll leave you alone. I can do that. But you have to do this first. Please. Help me."

Bloody help her. He begged Lily quietly. For once, keeping his sodding mouth shut so he didn't break the spell. The two of them, staring at each other. Jade had long descended into vamp face, like she could help herself. Slayer and Vampire, locked in a bloody war of the wills, except with all the important bits all twisted up. The Slayer wanted to be fed off of, and the Vampire willing to give anything not to. Lily's heart beat was anything but rhythmic, beating like a bloody drum, so fast. Her breath was haggard, but quiet. They didn't blink, not barely. Spike curled his fingers around the bars, frustrated. They were as good as a world away. And all he could do was wait.

And then there was a rip. A tug, as the hand that wasn't entwined with Jade's reached up and pulled at the sleeve of Jade's dress shirt. The silence was deafening. He couldn't see Jade's expression. Couldn't see if it was relief or disappointment. Probably a mix of both, and be a liar to say differently. Lily jerked the sleeve off of Jade with that Slayer strength that hadn't abandoned her yet. Then their fingers broke apart as Lily brought her arm back inside the cage, her eyes not moving from Jade as she began to clumsily tie it up one-handed. And Jade couldn't help even if she wanted to, her crippled arms. But she couldn't quite step back yet as the scent still lingered, even as Lily covered her wound with the makeshift bandage. Then, quietly, obediently, Lily stepped into the very back of her cage, as far from Jade as she could manage, eyeing the damage to her bent cage bars.

Jade leaned her head against the bar, her tense shoulders finally relaxing as a sigh broke from her lips. She looked back at Spike, her expression unreadable. Sweat coated her still-bumpy forehead. He didn't say anything, curling his lips into a smile that he bloody well hoped conveyed how proud he was of her.

"I'm sorry," Lily spoke up again, in a tinny, wretched voice. And she did sound contrite, mortified even. Better than that bloody sacrificial attitude, but Spike couldn't loathe her, despite the position she'd put Jade in. He understood why, might even have been all for it, if not for Jade, and what it'd do to her.

"Thank you," Jade breathed, a soft sigh. She did sound relieved now, gratitude levelling in her voice. "Just thank you. It's okay now." With a weariness that could have come from fighting a thousand battles, she turned away from Lily and back to Spike. Her expression was human now, exhausted. Her blazing blue eyes were now soft, penitent. She was drained, the poor chit. And it was such a battle she fought, that Spike had no qualms about sticking his arms through the bars and gesturing at her.

"Come 'ere," he bade her.

And she did. Slowly, hesitantly, she drew towards him, crouching to meet his eye level. "No pity," She said quietly, firmly. He knew what she was thinkin' about. That he still felt sorry for her and her confession, that this was a reward out of the empathy in his heart. He wasn't that selfless.

"I'm not a bloody charity worker, luv." Spike asserted. She looked at him, not entirely convinced. "Not pity," He assured her. "Pride. An' luv, you're trembling."

She nodded then, her restraint all worn down, and she leaned into the bars between them. One of his arms rested across her shoulders and the other on top of her head, cupping her skull in the palm of his hand.

"We have to get out of here. Next time they come. Whether there's an advantage or not." She mumbled as he stroked her soft, still silky hair. He couldn't help himself, bastard or not. It didn't seem wrong, holding her like this. Been through a bloody marathon. And it was just… right. Her eyes were closed, though her body still trembled all over like one of those sodding massage chairs, and she didn't seem to be able to control it.

"We will."


	81. Chapter 80

**80**

Lily's dam had broken. The one she had built up to protect what little of herself she thought had been remaining, after her near-suicide attempt, she was no longer in a nigh comatose state. She talked with them, and Jade did what she could to encourage her to speak. To speak of her family, hopes. Learned that Lily loved math, and she had a baby sister who had epilepsy and that she worried about her constantly. She had hit her rock bottom, and Jade tried not to resent her for it. She knew Spike wasn't so forgiving, but he wasn't being boorish to her either, just quiet. Not inspiring, comforting words, just none at all. She didn't mind. He'd stroked her hair for a while after, and she'd been so tempted to bend the bars like she'd bent Lily's so that he could hold her properly.

But her rational intelligence kicked in instead, and reminded her that even though he claimed it wasn't pity, he still wasn't hers. Just borrowed, for now, while Buffy wasn't near and danger haunted their every minute. It was definitely not the optimism she had tried to gather for their thoughts about escape, but what else could she think. She wasn't going to soar into the clouds just to fall down to Earth, she owed herself more than that.

But she couldn't resist his touch while he offered it, or the quiet humming he'd done after a long silence.

"I've travelled, and unwound my own truth, yeah," Spike had sung, his voice deep and husky, and God, it was pleasant. She hadn't resisted a single one of his music station picks when they had been driving across Europe. One reason was because she actually liked most of the music, and another was that he would sing along when he was into it. And she loved hearing that voice. Envied it. Envied everything about him, his tantalizing blue eyes, those lips, those cheekbones—even that hair. He was the picture of beauty, an ardor that couldn't be ignored. And she'd tried to—and failed tremendously. She knew she was digging herself deeper into this hole of Spike adoration, but right now, she didn't care.

They could die, she could die. So just stop caring for one minute and cherish it. Banish logic, her inner voice that was all too willing to remind her how silly she was. But she could ignore it, for now.

"I've laid my head on the rock of truth, yeah," Spike continued, tapping the strands of her hair in a paired beat. His thumb had stroked from her cheek to the tip of her hair, but he'd only done it once, turning back to her hair instead. And she'd laid her head down onto his other arm, using it as a pillow, her eyes half-closed as she tried to rationalize the fact that Spike, of all people, had been trying to sing her to sleep.

"I've trusted and then broken my own word. Just to keep me free in this mad, mad word." She didn't recognize the song, but he sung it well. Slower, she thought, than it might have supposed to be. She enjoyed the thrill his rasping, rich voice provided.

"It could happen to you, so think for yourself."

"If I should stumble," Spike intoned, his voice lower, quieter as he affectionately played with the locks of her hair. He was so relaxing, but there was no way she'd let herself sleep. She didn't want to miss a single second of it. She would be crazy to waste a single second she had of this peace.

"Catch my fall, yeah."

She'd been disappointed when the song was over and he'd changed to humming a wordless tune. "What song was that?" She'd whispered, and he'd stopped stroking her hair to lightly admonish her with a tap to her head.

"You're 'sposed to be sleeping," he had chastised her, although his acting cross hadn't been very believable.

"I'm almost," She sounded like a petulant child. "Please. What song is it? It was nice." Nice hearing him sing it, although she doubted she could ever hear anyone else sing it without an unfair comparison that would always go in the vampire's favor.

"Catch m' fall," Spike's voice had rumbled. "Don't you know any Billy Joel? Wanker stole m' look but he still has some good tunes."

"I know Rebel Yell," Jade offered. "And I'm sure it wasn't you who stole _his_ trademark look." She tried to sound sufficiently skeptical, and he took the bait.

"I didn't!" Spike insisted sullenly, sounding just as childish as she had. "I bloody swear, git got it from _me_. All them chits fawning over him with tha' hair, thinkin' he's bloody original." Spike snorted. "All me, luv."

She'd been unable to hide the smile on her face that she got from teasing him. It was so entertaining, how endearing he was. First seeing him, all dressed up in black and duster, he was all intimidation. Not so much now, in some ways he was just as nutty as she was. And it was nice.

And now they were here. She'd forced herself to the back of the cage, to give off the appearance of not being as threatening. But they'd broken her arms, not her legs. She could still be as quick as a shadow. And she'd have to be. It was go time. She glanced to her right. Lily met her gaze, giving her a firm nod. She was weak, weak because the vampires had kept her weak, feeding on her, and the cut she'd given her own wrist hadn't helped either. But she could walk, or try to. And they'd carry her if they had to. But she'd fight for them, not against them. Determination blazed in those dark eyes, not capitulation.

And then she looked to her left. And those cerulean eyes gazed back at her, a blaze that gave her the strength she needed. His eyes were determined. Proud. And they shone with faith. Not for the high almighty, that Jade hadn't felt comfortable praying to even _before_ she became a vampire. But in her. And he didn't say it in that many words, but she knew the truth. And she gazed at him, soaked up every pixel, trying to keep the words, _for maybe the last time_ , from knocking around in her head.

It started from when they heard the elevator cogs start up again. Jade heard Lily's heart flare up with excitement and fear, and if Jade's was still working, it would have done the same thing. She was thick with anticipation and worry. She still feared seeing Elijah again, like being face-to-face with him would turn her defiance to cowardice. That she'd falter in seeing the embodiment of her nightmares again, and it would turn Lily's conviction to ashes. But she couldn't. If it was to be him, then it didn't matter. This was the last coup. She'd talked with Spike. They couldn't wait for another opportunity. They'd just continue to weaken, and next time, Jade wouldn't be able to resist Lily's offer. They had to do it now. And trust. She couldn't falter, even if he was threatened, nor could he do it for her. Fear for the other's lives would put them in more danger. So they were on their own.

Jade's anxiety was for Spike, not herself, as much as she knew that was the exact opposite of how she needed to act. She couldn't let thoughts of him dying cloud her head or she wouldn't be in control. She'd react like a frightened rabbit and not with strength. So she tore her gaze away from Spike, looking straight ahead. As if she was the only one there.

She'd re-bent Lily's bars with her feet to straighten them. Lily had watched in fascination, clutching that wrist that had nearly undone Jade once and for all. She'd wanted it so badly, more than she had wanted anything, more than living, more than breathing, more than family.

But not more than Spike. And not more than herself. She had tried so hard not to fall, she kept her soul despite all the chance in the world. And she'd made that vow not to drink human blood, and she meant it. She knew it didn't matter as much to Spike as it did to her. He'd forgive her for that, but she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. So she tried so hard, and he'd helped her. She didn't want to disappoint him, and she didn't want to hate herself. It wasn't just for him. It was for herself. She didn't know where that strength had come from, but she prayed it would last. Last through this.

The elevator doors opened, footsteps sounded in the corridor. Lily held her breath. Jade echoed the sentiment, even if it wasn't as impressive for her.

Then their visitors rounded the corner.

It was Harmony. Jade closed her eyes in relief. Somehow, it was easier. She knew she'd put Elijah up on a pedestal he didn't deserve, that she should be more afraid of Kern, for all his age and speed, but she couldn't help it. Elijah had shaken her to the core.

Harmony, however, had just annoyed her.

"Yeah, like, of course. I'd miss that? Are you kidding. Hold on. You've got to be kidding me." Harmony let out a 'tch' of disgust. She'd come into view holding her phone to her ear, her long blonde hair in intricate, formed curls. Jade couldn't help but note how nice the blonde vampire's hair _did_ look with curls, holding it much better than Jade's locks ever did, when they had been long enough to curl, they'd just flatten back to a wavy state. And now, with her blunt, cropped cut that hadn't been washed in days, Harmony looked the exact opposite of her. "Ugh," Harmony groaned, punching the buttons of her phone irritably. "No stupid reception down here," she whined. Her eyes flashed to the captives.

"Oh hi," She simpered with false sweetness, making it clear that they weren't really worth her time. She blinked her long, stiff eyelashes, giving them an askew smile. "Look, like hello and all that, but I gotta finish this call. It's for the banquet tonight. I gotta make sure that that bitch Kim isn't going to try to outshine me in a red dress again. You boys can handle this, right?" She flashed a smile at her vampires. "Just meet me on the floor when you're done."

Jade caught Spike's flabbergasted look, their eyes briefly meeting. Hope curled in her belly. This was good luck. This is what they needed. Harmony's ineptitude, and a bucket of good luck. Especially for this part. There were six of them, approaching the bars. Some she just barely recognized from the last visit. Hog had been the one to help break her arms. She fixed her blazing eyes on him. They approached their cages equally as Harmony disappeared, the elevator starting back up.

"No, moron," one of them growled at one of them who'd hung around Jade's door, fishing for keys. "The stupid-haired one first, remember?"

"I was gonna," the admonished one whined. He was shorter, but bulky, with a surprisingly high pitched voice coming from such a big body.

"My hair is very _not_ stupid, I'd like to mention," Spike broke in offhandedly, glib as ever as the vampires circled his jail. Jade felt her heart clench, but two of the vampires remained at her door.

"Hurry up, then. Then we can get this one." Another one sighed, holding the keys to her cell, jangling slightly in his fingers. Jade barely looked at him. Focused on the vampires opening Spike's door with stakes in hand. Locked, frozen.

 _Can't be frozen_ , she reminded herself. _Trust_. She'd promised. Promised a lot of things. They were building up. But Spike had to fight his own battle. And she'd fight hers. No regret, no thinking about the worst income. No imagining Spike's ashes on the floor.

Just. Fight. Take advantage of this, because they weren't going to get another chance, not like this.

They opened Spike's door and flooded in.

She moved. Couldn't look at him. Couldn't glance to hear the grunts coming from Spike and his attackers as the scuffle inevitably started. No, she focused on the two vampires waiting. They weren't looking at her, they were sneering, jeering at Spike's against-odds fight. And he was even more drained than last fight, thanks to her. But she wasn't frozen like a rabbit this time, at Elijah's mercy.

She was fast. Jade half flew to her cage's door.

"Hey, what the—" She didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. She wasn't sure how easily her foot would fit through the cracks between the bar. So she just kicked the one directly in front of one of the vampires. As. Hard. As. She. Could.

It snapped, and her foot sailed through. Pained, and slowed by the metal, but the impact was there nonetheless. The vampire flew, his keys flying from his fingers, and his remaining companion, a bulky looking woman with short, mismatched hair, stared agape.

"Earl, we need help!" The female shrieked out. She was wise enough to back up quickly, and Jade shoved herself against the bars to force them apart. She used her shoulder this time, and a wave of white hot pain shot through her as her arm bore a mass of tremors. But couldn't stop. Couldn't look at Spike and how he was faring. She could still hear the kerfuffle, the smacks and grunts, but Spike was decidedly less loquacious and taunting than normal. He must be funnelling all his concentration into fighting. She needed to do the same.

She'd forced the bars apart, and she slipped through. The one she kicked was getting back up, wiping off of the wall's dust from his shoulder. The woman kept her gold eyes on Jade, brandishing a stake. Jade felt her fangs descend. She needed all her strength. Her arms still hung useless, one felt like it was on fire. They'd be no help. But she was a Slayer. She'd practiced those high kicks, once. Using her legs. Alright, so she hadn't been very adept at it, and Penelope had criticized her every step of the way, but it would have to do. She wasn't the most flexible or the most fancy, but she was determined. And she was still strong.

"D-don't, or we'll kill your guy. And you," the female vampire said. She tried to sound tough, but her voice wavered. Jade wondered what kind she was, her vamp-face in full bloom, her arms useless at her sides, hair mussed, pale skin bruised. Nothing intimidating but the fury in her eyes.

Someone let out a pained grunt following a sound of impact. It was Spike. No time to waste. She shot out her leg at the woman, catching her in the shin. A shriek exuded from her throat as she stumbled down to the ground. The male vampire came to his senses, rushing at Jade, and she turned, her back to him as she shot out her leg to trip him, avoiding his flailing arms. The woman struggled to rise back up to her feet. Jade wouldn't let her. Her foot sailed down, swift. Precise, for once. Her kicks had mostly been lacking, in training. She was more accurate with her bow, her arms. But that was taken from her, so she would make do.

Her ankle made contact with the bottom of the woman's skull and the back of her neck. A perfect, sweeping kick, with all the force she needed. It severed the head from the vampire's body.

The woman dusted. From her ripped jeans to her brightly colored vest, and that hair that reminded Jade of the 80s.

Was there a cheer? She didn't know. She turned her attention, her fierce gaze back on the other vampire, who was hastily beginning to back up, his back to the wall. A light, ginger moustache sat on top of his lips, laughable at any other time, its weasel-like appearance.

"You were right to open his cage first," she hissed. She missed her kick as he continued to stumble backwards. "But it doesn't save you in the end." Fury and a sweet, sweet need for revenge fueled her flying foot. She leaned backwards to help get the height she needed, catching the vampire on his throat. His arms swung back from the impact of hitting the wall, though they flew back to try to pry her foot off of him. Not going to happen.

Jade gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might. In much the same way as the other, she had the slight satisfaction of watching his head pop off, none of the bloody gore, but all of the dust that followed, coating the floor, as well as her. Couldn't use her arms, but it was their damn mistake to underestimate her. There was a certain righteousness, a triumph that filled her as she looked coldly at the spilled ashes. No regrets, and she wanted more.

Then there was a shriek from behind her, the sound of dust falling to the ground, and her heart lept to her throat. Spike. Her blood cold, she swivelled in a heartbeat, to face Spike's cage, terrified.

But no. There was Spike, blood dripping from his lip, panting unnecessarily, but hard, his shirt taut across his chest, a stolen stake in his hand, coated with another vampire's dust. She had no time to thank the God she didn't believe in, but she would have, a fervent prayer to whoever, the Powers, even, that he was still alive, still fighting.

Still outnumbered, but now she was here. She hurled into the cage with all of her speed. Spike was still alive. Still something to fight for. She smashed into Hog's form, knocking him off balance and sending another tremor down her arm that she ignored. She kicked fiercely at the legs of the bulky, short vampire, and he thudded to the ground.

"Mercy?" He winced as Spike immediately took advantage of the change in height, looming over him with a stake.

Spike smirked. "Not a chance, mate." His forehead was bumpy too, eyes golden as he brought the stake down in the vampire's chest. That otherworldly wail, and then nothing but dust. Jade stepped to Spike, reassured to have them shoulder-to-shoulder, and no vampires between them. They were a unit now, and there was no stopping them. Hog shared a look with his remaining companion. The vampire didn't waste time, shoving the other vampire in Jade and Spike's path, making a run for it. Jade didn't let him get away, snapping the closer vampire's ankle with a brutal punt, leaving him at Spike's mercy, and then knocked Hog down before he could reach the elevator. He growled, trying to reach around to grab her. Jade shuddered at the swaying of her arms, but pressed down hard with her legs, one on the vampire's knees and the other in the small of his back, using strength instead of weight to keep him down.

"Never thanked you for breaking my arms," Jade hissed at him.

"You won't get away," Hog huffed.

"Wrong." Jade smiled, but it was anything but friendly. His elbow flew up, and she jerked her shoulder, narrowly avoiding the torso shot. Her legs in use and her arms use _less_ , she brandished her fangs. She was strong. Stronger everywhere. As much as she'd prefer just ripping his head off with her hands, this was another option. With a roar rivalling a lion's fury, she descended, sinking her fangs into the back of his neck. He struggled fiercely, letting out a pained howl. His arm flailed again, this time catching her on her arm. A agony coursed through her, white hot and near-debilitating. But not enough. She bit down harder. His neck was like a goddamn tree-trunk, so wide it was hard getting her fangs in properly. But she snapped with all the power in her jaw, feeling her incisors sinking through flesh and crushing bone. Vampire blood threatened to seep through into her mouth, so she flinched backwards. His neck was half-mangled, but not completely. He made a gurgling sound as he tried reaching back for her once more, not with the same vigor. She pressed down with her legs then, pushing off and spinning, replacing her botched fang attempt with a heavy knee. She slammed down with all her strength, and it was enough. She severed his head, and her knees hit the hard ground as he disappeared to ash beneath her feet.

There was a slow clap. Just two claps really, and she turned around to see Spike there, stake in hand. She hadn't been able to spare a thought for him since she'd left him with the other vampire, hoping that he'd be able to handle it on his own. And he had. It looked now that he rushed to check on her, just catching the end of the show. He had various cuts and bruises marring his beautiful alabaster skin, but nothing serious. He was fine. He was still here. So was she. And they were out. With the keys… she looked back, remembering that they'd dropped in front of the cages. Lily hadn't appeared yet, likely still in her cage.

"Jus' checkin' on you," Spike confirmed, his heady blue gaze triumphant and thrilled. He had the good fight that he had wanted, not a bluffed power struggle, but what he could manage with his fists and fangs. He must have been satisfied. "Looks like y'done just fine, anyhow."

She dipped her head, momentarily too tired for words. But it wasn't over yet, not even close. She wearily pushed off with her sore knees, rising up, a bit unsteadily. And then he was there, standing in front of her, using her distraction to appear closer in Master vampire fashion. She supposed this was the moment in the movies. The heroine and hero had been separated, insurmountable odds. Might never have touched each other again, except through bars. No happy ending there. And even now, she still doubted that was in the cards for her. That this was ever going to be enough to break Buffy's hold on him. She reminded herself of that, lest she let her heart break in forgetting.

"You okay, Super girl?" He asked her, concerned. His hand fluttered, half to them, and she wondered if it was a conscious action.

"Yeah," she let out a sigh, nearly a pant. "We did it."

He answered her smile with one of his own, a pearly, brilliant smile that displayed his pearly, blunt teeth. "Not quite," he reminded her. "Bit more to go."

"Yeah," she felt a little dizzy. The expenditure of strength had not been good for her still low blood count, but she wasn't going to say anything.

He stared at her then, in silence. His lips moved as if to say something, but there was nothing but quiet. Gaze searching hers. Then he acted where she couldn't, pulling her abruptly into his arms, encasing her smaller body in his own. It was the same hug he'd given her when she'd thought he'd died, and he needed to comfort her. But this one was less about reassurance for her. His body was trembling, just as anxious as she had been. She couldn't embrace him back, just closed her eyes. Take what she'd get, for just a second.

But she'd be lost if she let herself remain too long, breathing in the scent of Spike, blood and dust. Feeling his sinewy torso beneath his thin long-sleeved shirt, and he felt so much warmer than her icy skin.

"Should get Lily out," she regretted the words as soon as she said them, for his arms immediately went slack at her behest, but it was necessary. They couldn't stop here, they were still in too much danger. Never mind the different danger for her being in Spike's arms.

"Right you are," Spike cleared his throat, taking a step back. "Bird might think we left without her."

She gave him the briefest, fleetest of smiles and then the two of them turned back. There was Lily, pressed flush to her bars.

"That was amazing," Lily breathed, life in her eyes as Spike ducked to get the keys that had fallen on the ground, squaring them into her lock. "The way you two fight, I—"

"You be able to learn it too," Spike pointed out, sounding a bit like a mentor. Jade remembered hearing briefly that Spike had stuck around with the Slayer Organization for a bit, doing some training. She could only guess why that had ended, but she figured it had something to do with Buffy. Being close to her but not close enough had caused Spike to flee to Haven. Lucky for Jade.

And despite everything she'd been through, it had still been good fortune. No matter how it ended.

Lily stumbled out of the cage as Spike freed her. Spike stepped in to steady her, the young girl leaning into his support.

"I'm okay," Lily gulped, dipping her head up and down. "I think I can walk."

Jade surveyed her from a distance. She still didn't trust herself getting that close, and even so, she couldn't carry Lily with her arms. But there was no way the half-starved, half-drained Slayer was going to be able to walk as fast as they needed her to. Jade shared a look with Spike. Even with the telepathy rings missing from their fingers, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

"You help her." Jade decided. "I'll protect us if anyone comes."

Spike nodded without comment. Lily started to protest, but relented as Spike lifted her up into his arms, one arm steadying her back and the other under her knees. Not wasting any more time, they fled to the elevator. Jade stood there, warily, as Lily, with the only free arm out of the lot of them, stuck the keys in and twisted, opening up the doors. Relieved, Jade stepped to the far wall, near flattening herself against it. Spike, with a knowing look, stepped as far as he could from her in recompense, waffling in front of the elevator panel.

"Which bloody floor, then?" Spike asked, and Jade pursed her lips. She couldn't remember which one exactly had the Slayer table, or the monitor room…

"Which one do you want?" Asked Lily in a quiet voice. A stab of pity and relief coursed through Jade. Lily'd been there longer, and despite her previous near-comatose look, she'd had been moved plenty of times.

"The map-table room," Jade decided immediately. "Where we first met you," she added for clarification. Lily nodded, pressing the right button as Spike swayed her closer to the panel.

"Just a couple things we need to do," Jade continued, trying to reassure her. "Then we're out of here, I promise."

"Okay." Lily's head popped up and down. "I'll be fine. It's fine." She was being brave, but Jade knew that she was still terrified, and the sooner they got out of the building, the better. Jade felt the same way. Spike's eyes met hers, that calm, blue gaze. So all three of them had the escape-the-building jitters. But they had a job to do first, and they were going to do it. She was both glad for and regretted the lack of elevator music. It was such a long journey, up through the many floors. Even Spike was quiet, contemplative. Lily leaned her head into his shoulder. She looked pale and drawn, but she was still there, still awake, still willing. Jade took a breath she didn't need, holding it in her mouth to steady herself.

"What time is it?" Jade asked. She was about to correct her statement, and make it less general, but Spike answered her anyway.

"'Bout an hour to sunrise," he informed her, and she nodded. Their time was short. Spike might be able to get out of here during the day, with Lily trying to cover him, before the sun got too high, but Jade wouldn't. Even a little shine would set her on fire. But she knew from his eyes that there was no way he was leaving her. They all went together, or none of them did.

There was a ding, and all three of them jumped, even knowing it was coming. There had been no-one else to get onto the elevator, with Spike mentioning at one point that there was likely some kind of magic mojo on it, and he was just glad the basement hadn't led them into a giant cat. She hadn't quite understood the comment, but let it slide. And now the doors slid open, into the office corridors. She stepped first, cutting off Spike as she stepped into the hallway, each sense on alert. There was nobody in sight.

Nobody in sight, but there was a familiar voice.

"I'm telling you, Unicorns are never tacky. If I could put them on my dress, I would. I'm serious. I'm thinking of getting my next Faviana with a little extra beading on the top, it would look sooo cute."

Jade glanced at Spike, and his gaze caught hers, a smirk on his bewitching lips. They turned around the corner, and there was Harmony, still talking into her phone. She was smiling, laughing with glossy lips, but then her eyes flickered up to see them. Her hand closed the phone automatically with a –click-, not even sparing so much as a good bye.

"'Lo, Harm," Spike sneered.

"Oh crap," Harmony said.


	82. Chapter 81

**81**

"You don't want to kill me!" Harmony whined as Spike pushed her up against the wall. He'd set down little Lily first, and the bird leaned against the opposite wall for support. Spike still had the one stake he'd retained from the earlier scuffle, and now he pushed it to Harmony's chest, the tip ready and at her breast. Just aching for a little superior pressure, and in it would slide, and Pretty-in-pink would be dust. Bloody finally. No more simpering, high-pitched whine. World would be less one superficial, hoity-toity vampire, and that was sodding fine with him. Brilliant, even.

"Wouldn't bloody bet on that," he contradicted, smirking as her face skewed into helpless horror. How'd it bloody feel now, on the other side of the fence, when she couldn't snap her bubblegum or clack her fancy nails on the table, acting all bloody superior. On the winning team.

"Please, Spikey, I—"

"Nothin' you can say now," he growled, near her. Her eyebrows rose piteously, tears in her eyes.

"I'm on your side!" Harmony insisted. "I—I—can help you!"

Spike let out a scoff. This was bloody gold, it was. Damn right laughable. "Yeh, I'll just take your word on that," he said sarcastically. His hand tightened on the stake. Revenge started now. Revenge for bloody laughing at them, for looking down at Jade, for all the torture Jade went through, Harmony was the first one goin' to take the fall for it.

"Spike." Nothing Harmony could say, but then there was Jade's voice. Calm, commanding. When she get so bloody assertive, so much that he felt his muscles relaxing at the single mention of his name, like he was a dog ready to snap to attention. "We should hear what she has to say," Jade continued. Gentle. Always gentle, bloody softie. No, what they _should_ do was kick Harmony's ashes to the ground and continue on their merry bloody way.

"Are you off your gourd?" Spike snapped back. "She dies."

"No, no, no," Harmony trilled. "Listen to her. She's the smart one—I mean, you're smart, Blondie bear. But she, she is too. And right. She's right. You should listen to me!"

Spike tightened his hand around Harmony's arm, gripping as tight as he could manage. "Shut up," he growled.

"Ow," Harmony complained, her brow furrowed.

"You don't get to look at her. Not after your bloody helpful suggestions. Cut her arms off! You bint."

"I didn't mean it," Harmony said mournfully. Her eyes flickered to Jade. "I really didn't—I—ow—" She winced as Spike dug his thumb into her bicep.

"I said don't look at her!"

"Please don't kill me!" Harmony whined instead. "I can help. I can help you guys. Honest. I mean, I've helped you already!"

"Do bloody tell, Harm, how you've managed to _help_ us so far," each word was dripping sarcasm, acrimony lining each syllable.

She took a breath she didn't need, her lower lip trembling. "Well, there's this. I totally helped you guys escape. By getting out of the way." She nodded enthusiastically.

"Harm," Spike let out a laugh he couldn't keep bottled in, at the pure ridiculousness that was this blonde. "Y'Right bollixed up. Your bloody ineptitude got us out, not your intent."

Harmony's forehead creased with wrinkles, confused. "I don't know what that means. Okay, okay," She added, as the stake's pointed end pressed into her dress, towards her skin. "I didn't do that on purpose. But I can do this on purpose. I can totally help you guys. Whatever you need. Just as long as you don't, you know, stake me."

"Harm, I wouldn't trust you with a bloody lump of coal."

"Why would you help us?" Jade's voice cut through instead, and Spike looked back at her. Bugger no, his Slaypire looked like she was actually considering Harmony's proposal. Actually considering it. "Soulless, and all that. What's your angle?"

"Well, I want to live," Harmony pointed out nervously. "So there's that, and like, honestly, guys. I might seem like the big boss, the head honcho, the Queen B—"

"Not a bit," Spike inputted.

Harmony pouted. "But the truth is, Kern and Elijah are like, _really_ mean. And they're all world domination this and rule the world that, and I mean, like, good goals and all that, you know. But why mess with a good thing? I'm like a legit celebrity now. There's pictures of my butt on the internet. And I'm like, really good at it. The celebrity thing. And I mean, vampires had to come out eventually, right? S-so if you just take me out, someone else will take my place, I mean, try, someone obviously less hotter and not—"

"Put a cork in it, babbling brook," Spike interrupted, very tempted to just throttle her to death.

"Okay, okay. But the thing is. Vampires _are_ out now. And—and you need someone at the head that you have like, an understanding with. The devil you know, you know? And I can totally do that. And well. And I'll help you guys with whatever. I just want to live. Well, unlive."

"Not a bloody chance."

"Okay." Jade spoke a heartbeat after, and Spike spun towards her, his eyebrows arched with indignation.

"Not bloody okay!" He growled. "Jade, she—"

"I know. I know. But she isn't the worst here." Jade's eyes, a mixture of determination and steel, centered firmly on Harmony, whose simpering look had varied into an expression of hope. "I want to destroy that Slayer table. Get the tapes of that speech you had me record. A _full_ list of everyone you were planning on turning. And then get us out. If you do that. I won't kill you."

"Jade—" Spike warned.

"I can do it." Harmony bobbed her head up and down. "I can do like, all of that. I can help. I'm really useful."

"We can't trust her!" Spike snarled. Needed to get some bloody sense put back into Jade. He knew Harm. She was evil, and maybe she wasn't the best at it, because of her utter stupidity, but that didn't mean she could be trusted to help them with a single, bloody thing. And she didn't deserve to walk off scott free. None of them.

"I'm not trusting her. It's bargaining. Spike, it makes sense." Her hard tone had dissolved, softer, gentle. Those big blue eyes, staring back at him. Mercy in them that he couldn't gather. "We can't run around trying to get everything. And she's right. Spike, she's the only one that I don't fear. The other two, not a damn chance would I let them walk. But Harmony, she's—"

"She's not bloody harmless."

"No. But she's the best bet."

"She's right," Harmony drilled her head up and down.

"Shut up, Harm!"

"If she runs us into a trap, then we kill her," Jade said simply.

"The thin' about traps is that it's not that bloody simple! Could get us dead or captured."

"We're not getting captured again," Jade promised, a blaze of determination in her eyes. She wasn't budging. Sometimes, sometimes she was so bloody accommodating, gentle and sweet. And other times she was as stubborn as a damn packhorse. Usually when she was right about something. But she wasn't right this time. It wasn't right. Harmony didn't get to walk.

"Give us a mo'," Spike said towards Harmony, whose face changed into an amiable, highly energetic smile. He jerked his head towards Jade, who drew a few steps back by his direction.

"Sure, take your time. All in favor of not killing," She smiled brightly, too brightly.

"If you try to run, I'll kill you," Jade reminded Harmony, but there was no malice in her voice, just fact. Harmony dipped her head up and down rapidly like a stupid bobble-head doll.

"You got it boss."

Spike sent a wary look at where he left Lily standing, but she was doing her best to appear stoic, leaning up against the wall and keeping her eyes on Harmony like she was playing body guard. They didn't need to go far, and Spike reached out to grab Jade's arm to stop her. He was a bit too hasty, and she flinched at the jarring of her arm.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly.

"It's fine," Jade replied easily, her blue eyes watching him, waiting. Knew he wasn't all too much on the band wagon with this barmy plan, so she waited for him to start.

"We can't bloody trust her." Spike reiterated. "Better just to off the bint and go on our merry way."

Jade's eyes flickered down the hall, on alert. He knew as she did that they couldn't waste much time. They were lucky that there were no lackeys or what have you roaming the halls. Seemed like this was the special backstage pass, this floor. Didn't mean their luck would hold forever.

"I think we can use her," Jade argued, but her voice was soft. Spike opened his mouth to further the debate, and she spoke first. "But this isn't a dictator ship. I don't control you. I can't order you around. This is just how I feel. I can spare her. If you can't, then I understand. We'll do it your way. We're partners." She could only hold his eyes for half a beat. "I trust you."

Well, bloody hell. There went his convincing argument. Now it was crumbling into dust, as Harmony ought to be. Was so bloody different. Not being argued with, making him feel like less than a bloody crumb on the ground. Valued opinion, huh. Such a rare bloody occurrence in his over a century of unlife. And he could have argued, argued til the sun went up and came back down. Made stuff up, if he had to. But his resolve was slowly draining. She trusted him. She wanted to let Harmony live, but she'd defer to him if that's what he wanted. Partnership, so that's what it was. What it was supposed to feel like. And he knew her. She wouldn't use it as a weapon when time came to pass. And this wasn't a way to mess with his mind. She wasn't that conniving, that scheming. She meant what she meant.

"She doesn't deserve to get away scot-free." He grumbled. But he was waffling.

"We don't have the time to waste," Jade's voice was benign. Bloody hell, did she know how hard she was to resist when she looked at him with those innocent eyes, begging him to trust her? "She's here. We can use her." There was a pause, her eyes seeking out his. "Trust me?"

His shoulders sagged. She was too bloody forgiving. Didn't see the way Harmony had revelled in Jade's torture, just as bad as the rest of them. Thinking herself superior to the Slaypire, that she was better. Jade was better than all of them, and he didn't forgive the slight. But damn it. They didn't have a plan, which yes, was his modus operandi, but that didn't have a great track record of working out for him. But she was asking for the one thing that he'd given to her unconditionally, and would always. Couldn't help himself. Her loyalty in him had secured his credence.

"Yeh." He glanced at Harmony, who let out a huge, relieved sigh, likely listening into their hushed conversation, the bint. "'Til the day I die."

The sentiment was not remiss on Jade. Her eyes softened, nodding in gratitude. Then she turned her gaze towards Harmony, and her expression wasn't so forgiving.

"Now." Jade commanded. "Lead us to where we want to go, and get us out of here before sunrise, or you find my mercy has an expiry date."

"Okay, okay. This way." Harmony dipped her head vigorously down the hall. Spike turned back to the pale Slayer as Jade stepped up behind Harmony, playing the role of the captor, this time. Lily looked up at him, cheeks flushed but skin still pale. Dark eyes stared at him, her full, chapped lips in a small 'o'.

"Y'alright?" He asked her, gruffly. Didn't want her to faint on him. Not the bloody time for that. But she nodded.

"Still here." She couldn't quite manage a smile, but her expression was determined enough. He swept her up into his arms. She was small, for a sixteen year old. Taller than Jade, but slimmer, no doubt a side-effect of the however bloody long she had been here. She wasn't quite right either. Hard to come out of something like this without a few mental bloody scars. He almost didn't blame her for her breakdown. Jus' a bloody child, really.

"Where's the tape. And the list?" Jade asked the blonde vampire.

"In that room with the computers. But you said the map-table room first and that's the floor we're on, so there first."

"Where are Kern and Elijah?" Jade demanded, as Harmony led them through the halls.

"Like, probably in the room, waiting for you. What!" Harmony snapped at Spike's expression. "It's not a trap. I'm being honest. You said map room. Hello, that's where we're going. It's just not going to be empty, okay?"

Jade turned towards Spike, then, a pensive look on her expression. "We might have to split up," She murmured. "Running out of time. Might be better for me to go to the map room, and for you two to go with Harmony to get the tape and the list…"

Spike shook his head vehemently. "Not a bloody chance. Not lettin' you out o' my sight. In this together."

She hesitated, her lips parted, and then a hesitant nod. "Okay." She let him have the argument this time. He knew it was partly because she was anxious about splitting up as he was, but she had to make the suggestion. Might even be smarter. Half hour remained until sun up. If things led to a scuffle, could get nasty fast.

They continued down the hall, and this one was finally bloody familiar. Yeh, he'd been here before. Harmony didn't have the bounce to her step, sluggishly leading them down to the end. Like the time before, the ordinary office doors began to open of their own accord. There one was, sitting at the table. Kern. The smirk on his twisted, gnarled face disappeared as he saw that the captives were suspiciously lacking their prison guards. Spike couldn't see Elijah, although Kern wasn't alone, a few other vampires in the room. Just. Three.

"Hi." Jade said, and her foot ripped into the wooden door, breaking it off its hinges and flinging it in Kern's direction. It broke into splinters, scattering across the table, the room. Kern dove for cover. One of the other vampires wasn't so bloody lucky, exploding in a cloud of dust. Spike quickly settled Lily onto her feet. He bent down, picking up a stray wooden shard, pressing it into Lily's hand and gesturing to Harmony. There was no hesitation, not this time. A Slayer-like look appeared on Lily's face, determined, and with no practice but all instinct, she stepped behind the blonde vampire and held the shard to Harmony's back, directly behind her heart. Whatever training she'd gotten on vampires had been on-the-job, poor bird. But it meant that Spike could focus on the two remaining lackeys while Jade jumped for the ancient vampire.

And Spike had her bloody back. Now and always. He pulled another shard from the floor, ignoring the splinters that pierced his skin as he approached the two remaining henchmen.

"Lo, mates," he flashed a dangerous smirk, twirling the shard in his fingers. His face morphed, fangs out, and he charged them head on. He knocked into the first, causing him to fly back into the wall, catching the second vampire's fist on his chin. Spike staggered, but laughed, a raucous, elated sound. Here was the fight. This was his bloody court, ball and all. Being exhausted and sodding hungry didn't matter. He always liked unfair odds. Made it more fun. Right now, it was just necessary.

He blocked the next punch, kicking the vampire in the stomach as his partner raced back into the fray. Another punch to his jaw that jarred him, but he gave back as good as he got, if not more, hitting the vampire back with his empty hand, holding his makeshift defensively in front of him. He swayed, ducked, moved. Wasn't that good at dodging that onslaught, especially while he was tired, but never let it be said that William the Bloody 'Spike' couldn't take a punch. Wasn't no ponce, like Angelus, who wanted the fighting part over quick and done and the torture to last for ages. Spike loved the fight, loved the thrill of it. Loved how simple it made everything. Nothing to distract him, nothing to get in his head and twist up his heart.

Instead, there was just the giving and taking of pain. And he was bloody well good at it. He kicked, a heavy boot that caught one of the vampires. They fell like a sodding sack of bricks, and he moved in without hesitation, popping his stake into the vampire's chest and watching him explode with no lack of satisfaction. The remaining vampire didn't have the sense to flee, but that was all the better with Spike. Bring the fight right sodding to him, then.

There wasn't an abundance of finesse to it, some pattern and style that he could identify, just good ol' fashioned brawling. Spike took a hit to his chest that staggered him, raising up his hands in defense just in time to stop the enemy's stake from finding its way into _his_ heart.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered. The wanker had picked up his own wooden shard, thinner, longer. But there was no way that Spike was letting himself get staked by some unknown git.

Be just bloody embarrassing.

There was a shriek from Lily, out of surprise rather than pain, and an explosion as someone hit a wall and went right through it. Spike didn't have time to see who it was. His opponent's attention wavered for a heartbeat, but it was enough. Spike twisted his hand through the vampire's arms, catching him on the chin. With a grunt, he flew backwards, arms knocking out of the way. Spike pivoted, turned and stabbed his stake into the heart. A disembodied shriek, and then nothing but dust.

Spike allowed himself a second to recuperate. God, his face hurt. They beat on that like it was a bloody piñata. Always had to go for the nose. He was vain enough to want to keep that unbroken, thanks ever bloody so. He was lucky his teeth hadn't been rattled from their roots. And his chest. Felt like they'd bent all the bones in the wrong way. He needed some blood, taking a beating like this.

'Course, there was no time. Twenty minutes, if that, until the big sodding ball of fire hung in the sky, and they weren't going nowhere.

His break had only taken a few seconds, if that, and he turned his head back to properly survey the battlefield.

And then, like a bloody apparition that outshone even Jade's speed, Kern was right in front of him. Wrinkled, bat-ugly face, claws outstretched and fangs dripping with saliva and blood.

Spike didn't have time to move, not enough time to even form a 'oh, bugger' or any rational thought.

He wasn't fast enough, but Jade was there. Like an avenging angel, if they looked like a hellion. Her fangs were present, her eyes a cold, fierce golden. She was in between Kern and Spike before Spike could even twitch, slamming her shoulder towards ol' batty, who hissed and flew backwards. Jade let out a pained cry, and he knew the hit had not been good for her arms. But she had no time to waste, with Kern changing his tactics and rushing for Lily instead.

Bloody git. He was faster than Jade. Taunting her with her weaknesses. And Spike was bloody ticked to be thought of as that. A sodding burden.

"What are you waiting for?" Kern hissed vehemently as Jade swivelled in front of the trembling Lily. His words were directed at Harmony, who was still being obedient—for once in her sodding life. "Fight these unclean, inferior. You betray your kind."

The blonde shrugged.

"I'm waiting to see who's going to win first before I get my nails chipped. So far, it's been a tough call. I—I mean, perfectly honoring our agreement. Not even a _thought_ of anything treacherous." Harmony backtracked quickly, with a worried look at Jade, who was standing right at the bint's side. Jade didn't have the thought to spare an eye roll, but of course, Harm wasn't fooling a bloody person. Knew her loyalty could be bought by a big enough price, and right now that was if she wanted to keep unliving or not. She'd be obedient 'til then.

Or Spike would be more than happy to drive a stake through her.

He didn't have much time to carry on that happy train of thought when Kern narrowed his pale-yellow eyes on him again, and Spike could only barely lurch towards Jade as Kern moved again. This time Spike got a big ol' bunch of claws for his trouble, cutting into his chest and flipping him around as he flew back through the air. Jade wasn't as fast, 'specially not with the lack of sustenance. Wasn't fast enough to keep up with Kern as he ducked between Lily and Spike.

"Spike," Jade said firmly as he pulled himself back onto his feet, shaking off the wooden splinters that pricked his skin. "Take Lily and keep going. I'll be right behind you."

Knew that it was coming. The 'no distractions' bit. Having something to protect put her on the losing side of this battle. And he bloody despised being the reason they'd fail.

But he didn't want to leave her. Not here. Said he wouldn't. Had meant it. Now it was best, bloody git that he was, just twisting an arm behind her back. Or a foot behind her, seeing as her arms were already no sodding help at all.

"Jade—"

" _Please_ ," she stressed the word. Kern feinted, and she followed, only to have to quickly duck back when the ancient vampire tried to round on Spike. She was keeping her back to him, couldn't even look back so he could see her.

"Right behind us," Spike stipulated. His heart clawed at him, twisting him all up inside. The animal in him resisted, heavily. That protectiveness flared up again, a uncontrollable mantra in his head. _Can't leave her, can't leave her._ But he had to be the man. The man who had to be wise, for once. Wrong, leaving her like this. Was smart, yeah. But wrong. They were a sodding team. Partners.

He knew if he turned away from her now and she didn't ever follow after it'd tear him down, and that frightened him. Thought he'd had enough of that that he could handle. Now it was happening again, and bloody hell if it did the opposite but please him. Just confuse the hell out of him. He let himself get so bloody invested. Always.

"Right behind you." Jade promised.

Spike was moving, ducking back to Harmony and Lily. He funnelled all his frustration into a smouldering glare at Harmony.

"What?" The blonde complained. "See me, all behaving and everything? I'm not—"

"Shut up," Spike growled vehemently. There was a crash behind them. Jade had landed on the edge of the table, and it broke at the force of impact, sending her to the ground. She bounced back up instantly, her arms swaying.

He couldn't watch. Had to run. Had to go. She'd be right behind them.

"Tape. List." Spike curled his arm under Lily's smaller body, giving something to lean on, but he couldn't risk holding her bridal style now. Her small but powerful fingers gripped at his shirt to steady herself, and he took the slender shard from her fingers and poked Harmony with it. "Move."

And then they were. Moving, hurtling back as he left Jade behind to face off with Kern, alone. And it bloody near killed him.


	83. Chapter 82

**82**

"Going to put me in my place?" Jade asked. She was fresh out of creative barbs, so grudges would have to do. She circled Kern, and he did the same, no longer zigzagging like a rabbit to distract her by going after Spike and Lily. That didn't mean he wasn't still trying to distract her. The longer she was apart from Lily and Spike, the more danger the trio was in. Wasn't arrogance, just a fact. They were stronger together, vampire, Slaypire and Slayer. All weak, especially on their own, and taking Jade's lack of any reliable luck into account, it was dangerous. Spike was the most capable fighter of them right now, but he was low on blood and not low on the amount of beatings he had sustained. Lily's was a prolonged weakness, and a lack of reliable experience.

And Jade, well. She felt she'd transcended the idea of pain. Really, she should have thanked Kern and Elijah for breaking her arms, since it was one of the factors that had kept her from draining Lily dry. Pain was a constant companion, one that couldn't be forgotten or ignored. One that kept finding new ways to be relevant, fresh. She thought she should have gotten used to it by now.

Wow, was she wrong.

Her advantages over Kern was her strength. It eclipsed the master vampire's. But not her speed. She was slower than him, and he'd nearly gotten to Spike and Lily because of it. And now they were gone, and she could still hear their feet running down the halls, a pitter-patter like her heart would never have again. She could catch up, still. Be right behind them like she promised.

But Kern had to be dust first. He could do more than distract and slow them down, he could kill them all. Jade's strength didn't help much, since her arms were useless to her. Unless she could get him with a heavy kick, but he was harder to hit without anything to slow him down.

Stop analyzing it. That had been her problem, Spike told her. She loved to take her time. Was why she had favored the bow in her Slayer days. One careful, calculated shot, and a fight was over. No scuffle needed. But she had to work on her instinct, that's what he had told her. She wasn't aggressive enough, but protective. She drew out the fight to suss out weaknesses, to hope the enemy would make a mistake, instead of throwing all in and risking herself to end it faster. Spike could do it. He loved unfair odds. This super-fast, super-strong vampire? Just a fun challenge for him.

But for Jade, it was life or death. Alright. Unlife or death, specifically.

So she squared off. Her back to the hallway that Spike and Lily had just fled down. No way was Kern getting past her. No more ducking around.

Just. Fight.

Her foot landed, heavy and calamitous, on the table which had indicated the potentials and Slayers. It broke into a thousand pieces, scattering onto the floor.

Kern roared and charged. His outstretched talons caught her shoulder. She felt precious blood leak down, on the pale skin of her exposed arm, the torn sleeve still around Lily's wrist. She aimed a kick, but he dodged, behind her now. She whirled viciously, with the same momentum of her swinging leg. It didn't connect, Kern spinning out of the way and raking those claws down the back of her shoulder instead.

Were they longer? They seemed longer.

"Where's Elijah? He didn't want to join the party?" She was still terrified of him showing up. Kern was enough of a foe by himself, but two? She didn't think she could handle both. And she was not getting captured again.

"After your friends," Kern hissed, and Jade's blood ran cold. Kern leered at her, revelling at the look of fear that crossed her face. And that's what he wanted, that fear. But it was a bluff. She should know what they look like before. There was a slight uncertainty in his pale yellow eyes, and she clutched on to what she had been suspicious of since entering the room and finding no Elijah.

"See," Jade huffed out as her next swing of her leg missed again, demolishing the wall, her foot breaking through the plaster as if it was ribbons. She ducked the heavy answering blow from Kern, getting only the sharp pain of one of his talons scratching her forehead instead as she pulled herself from the wall, back into the fight. "I think that he left. Unexpectedly, suddenly. I think he knew we broke out, and he left you high and dry."

She sprayed up the broken wood fragments towards him like it was ice. Kern hissed. Couldn't dodge it all, so he protected himself with his arms. Jade tried to follow up with a kick, but he backed away again. Coward. The word that had been a blow to her now sounded resolutely in her head. He was wasting her time. And he'd continue to waste it, because she had to wait for him to make a mistake. She couldn't win like this.

Needed another strategy.

Spike was good at that, good at picking out the inconsistencies and weaknesses in his opponent. He wasn't fond of long, extensive plans, but he was cunning, and quick. Quick to react and move.

Kern wasn't coming to her. Could keep out of her reach and dodge her powerful but slower kicks.

He could dance around her all day. He was in no hurry. She was, and they both knew that. Kern wasn't going to go in until he could have the satisfaction of killing her.

So she needed to give it to him. She shot her foot at him and he twisted, missing her flailing arm, but just barely. Her useless arms knocked against her torso as she stilled. It was wince-worthy, all the moving pieces that should be still. She should have just tied them tight, straitjacket style. Not like she could use them anyway.

Don't dwell. Need a plan.

Needed Kern to think he was the winner.

Shouldn't be too hard to pretend, right? He was close. One slip-up from her… well, hopefully he needed more than just one slip-up. The next time her leg flew, she made it go wide. Too wide. She stumbled, and Kern, his eyes bright with triumph, raking his claws from her lower jaw to her neck, and then to her chest, to her breast over her heart. She let out a cry that wasn't entirely exaggerated. She staggered. Was it enough? No, Kern still kept at a respectful distance. She could have groaned at the misfortune. Kern chose _now_ to view her with some regard. She felt her precious blood dripping down. One more mistake then. She tensed her legs, jumping at him with all of her strength. Strength, but not accuracy. She was quick, launching herself, but so was he. He caught her by the torso, not hindered by her arms, the arms that she couldn't raise to protect herself. He swivelled her with impressive strength of his own, sending her towards one of the half demolished walls. She struck it, hard. At an angle, crashing through and landing in the next room. She fell on something hard, and she blinked around at the dark room, trying to get her bearings. Some kind of torture chamber, what with the old fashioned bars and steel devices. Then she realised what she had landed on wasn't so much hard as it was _sharp_ , some kind of bear trap device that hadn't sprung up since her entire weight was across it, but the pointed edges dug into her, grasping. The acrid smell of her own blood hit her mouth. It was alright. She was fast enough to beat the claw's snap.

And then there was Kern, bearing down on her with a stake in hand. "A waste of potential," he rasped. His eyes gleamed. And she was immobilized. Couldn't move up with Kern over her, couldn't stay here, pressed against the animal trap. Couldn't move her arm.

"No petulant reply?" Kern asked rhetorically. She was trapped, and he knew it. He moved before she could, his hand bringing down the stake. Towards her heart. So Kern didn't want her as a captive either. He growled triumphantly.

She waited.

One. More. Second.

Then she sprung. Rolled. The trap snapped as she shouldered it up towards him. He moved his claws out of the way, narrowly missing being down a fingers. That was fine. She didn't want his fingers. She swung her legs up. He'd crouched down towards her—his mistake. He wasn't that tall. In reach. Her legs clamped down on each side of his throat. His eyes bulged as he realised his mistake.

"How mediocre am I now?" Jade hissed, and twisted her ankles together. There was a satisfying crunch, his growl that died out into the air and a agglomeration of dust that showered down on her like it was rain. Bit gross, she had to admit. It peppered her skin and she had to spit to keep the foul taste out of her mouth. She brought her legs down, springing herself up. She staggered forward. There had to be a point, a point where the pain and aches would just be too much and she'd shut down. But she couldn't, not yet. She had to keep moving. Find Spike. And Lily, of course.

But Spike first. So no more looking over her triumphant battlefield. She poured all her strength into her wobbling legs and ran. Back through the hole in the wall her body had created it. One quick glance over the map-table to see it was destroyed. Then back on the hunt. They were on this floor somewhere, in the computer and monitors room. She opened her mouth and allowed herself to take in their scents, something she had avoided since the near-disaster with Lily. There it was. The hint of blood, vampire and Slayer alike. She tried to ignore how her belly hummed with desire. Not now. Not when they were so close.

The halls were a maze. She could smell where they were. A growl sounded in her throat. No time for this. She brought her leg up to a wall and kicked it. Plaster and dust, and she stepped through. One more time. And then again, this time leading her into a hallway that was nearly familiar. She could smell them more strongly now, and more importantly, hear Harmony's voice.

"Okay, yeah, so that's _my_ version of the list, but it's still like, mostly correct."

"Y'wrote Dick Tiny." Spike's voice. The sound filled her with relief. She slowed her awkward, limping gait, her burst of energy dissipating as her anxiety decreased. They were okay.

"That's his _name_ , okay. I didn't pick it. He's the vice president, okay. I mean, what a name to get sworn in on, but I didn't pick it."

"It's Dick, bloody, _Cheney_ , you stupid bint."

"Okay, that makes more sense. But it _sounds_ like—"

"Spike?" Lily's voice now, thin and concerned. "Maybe we should go back for Jade. I know she said to—"

"Y'can bloody bet we're not leaving without her, sweets. Don't care if the bloody sun comes up."

She knew that, but it warmed her to hear it anyway. From both of them. "Not necessary," She said tiredly as she reached the room. There were several piles of dust around the monitors. Fresh, she could guess. Harmony was doing her best not to look disheveled, and Spike was holding a list his hand.

"Jade," Lily smiled from where she leaned against one of the desks. Her arms tensed as the slender Slayer pushed herself up from the table and took a step towards Jade, halting respectfully when she remembered about the 'smart to keep a distance'. Jade gave her an answering smile that she hoped was warm instead of relieved. She just had a reminder of how mouth-watering the scent of Lily's blood is, and how apertitive it probably was. Nearness would not help.

Spike didn't have the same qualms. The relief in his cerulean gaze was not hidden, it was warm and resounding. "Super girl. You made it." He didn't sound surprised, as if her not making it wasn't an option he'd allowed himself to consider. His eyes flickered down the numerous cuts she'd picked up.

"Kern's dust." She said with an inflection that tried to be triumphant and proud, but just sounded tired instead.

"See. I totally had faith in you guys. Good thing I didn't turn on you. N-not that I would have." Harmony's babbling is white noise to Jade, as Spike stepped closer to her. His eyes still hadn't left hers, searching, poignant. His arms tensed and relaxed, grip tightening on the piece of paper in his hand. He seemed to be deciding something, fighting with himself. Then simply gave up, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms. Jade let out a muffled 'ow' into his chest, but she had no energy to resist. Even if she wanted to. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, such a surprising act of affection. She didn't want to think too much, just closed her eyes briefly and let herself enjoy it for one second. Alright, maybe more than one second. Each embrace was a gift that she didn't know she'd ever get again. His arms were feather light around her arms.

"Glad t'see you made it out. Knew you would." Spike's voice sounded almost choked. He loosened his grip on her enough for her to look up at him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that she hadn't expected, the slightest tremble on his lips. He wasn't being so honest, she thought. He'd been scared. And that shouldn't make her feel glad, but it did. She could definitely relate to that.

"Don't break my promises," Jade murmured. He released her then, and she glanced to Harmony, who'd been standing there with a fake smile plastered on her lips, in the style of 'please don't kill me still.' Trying to remind them all that she was a good vampire who deserved to be turned loose.

Probably not.

"Get the tape?" Jade asked. Spike fished it out of his pocket and showed it to her. She dipped her head towards the floor and he dropped it obediently. With her foot, she crushed it, letting it join the pieces of dust on the floor.

Harmony made a mourning sound. "I worked so hard on that script," she whined. "I mean, yeah. Stupid tape."

Spike rolled his eyes. "'Sall we could get of a list. Printed it off the computer. Unfortunately, could only find the bint's copy." He showed it to her. Brangelina was bolded and underlined.

Jade let out a sigh. "We might not know the specifics, but it'll have to do. Enough to get out a warning. How much time do we have left?"

Spike's mouth tightened. "Ten minutes."

"Enough time to make it down the elevator?"

Spike shrugged a shoulder. "Be tight. Plus, might have a sodding greetin' party waiting for us when we get off on ground floor."

"So we don't get off on the first floor." Jade decided. Spike's lip twitched, and he knew he was considering calling her barmy again, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and reluctance for whatever she had planned.

"Hey, you're the one that taught me how to fly," She smiled at him, a genuine grin. He blinked, and his expression softened, then the obvious flaw popped back up.

"Yeh, _you_. Do I look like I got sodding wings?"

There was no more time to argue. All ignoring Harmony's suggestion that she wished them the best of luck and would just hang around in the computer room alone, they brought her with them as they crowded back into the elevator and pushed at the buttons. Fourth floor, just to be safe. Spike grumbled about breaking his legs, but his fingers reached out and squeezed her own. Was a gentle, reassuring touch. One that didn't shake her arms. She didn't have the strength to squeeze back. Lily was walking now, but not much faster than Jade was. Spike's eyes had narrowed when he saw the blood that coated Jade's back, from the beartrap, and her front, from Kern's claws, but it wasn't the time to look over their wounds. Just to get the hell out.

"Three minutes," Spike said as the door finally opened. He'd half pried it himself, impatient, and the four of them traipsed into the normal looking office floor. Not entirely normal. There were a few candles flickering. Jade looked at them, mesmerized by the glow.

Lily limped over to the window, but Spike stopped when he saw how Jade paused beside the candles.

"What's wrong, luv?" His voice broke into her head. Reminding her that she was wasting precious time, even if he said it so tenderly.

"I want to burn the whole place down." Jade said in a whisper. His eyes softened, yet were somehow steel at the same time. She knew he felt the same way.

"Don' have time," he reminded her, but she'd known that already. Still, as she passed the offending desk, she couldn't help but knocking over the candle with a thud from her knee, dropping small flame into a wastebasket. She hoped it would cause a huge inferno, even if she knew in reality, that wasn't the case.

"Jump down there?" Lily asked, her eyes large as she looked through the window.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Harmony said drily. "Let me know how it goes. Hey, I said good luck," She protested as Spike grabbed her by the arm, hitting her against the wall of a cubicle.

"Y'think you get a free ticket?" Spike demanded.

Jade tore her gaze from them briefly as she shoved her foot against the glass, feeling it splinter and break, a thousand pieces. It was thick glass, but not to her.

"We'll do it together, Lily," She promised, as kindly as she could. The Slayer nodded, her lips in a straight line. The sky was no longer navy, tinted with the color of salmon. Just moment, and the sun would be there, peeking out of the horizon. She glanced over her shoulder, back to Spike and Harmony. Harmony's eyes were wide, her expression piteous.

"I helped!" Harmony insisted. "Please. I did. I did. I got you all you wanted. Helped you escape. Watched. Watched you escape," Harmony corrected herself as Spike's grip on her tightened. "Ow. Please. Jade, you're the like, honorable one. Tell Spikey to let me go."

"I don't control him," Jade said evenly. Harmony's expression fell. Just a minute left.

"Hear that?" Spike smirked, his lips drawn up over his blunt teeth. "Your fate is in m'hands, li'l foam latte."

"Yeah," Harmony cringed. "But, but. She seems all nice and stuff. You know it'll just bother her to go back on her promise. And you don't want to make her feel bad. So you wouldn't do that."

"Make me feel right top o' the world, though," Spike replied, unbothered.

"Spike, _please_. You don't want to be the baddy in front of your girl. And it's obvious that you—" She was cut off by Spike slapping a hand over her mouth. His mocking, derisive manner had suddenly turned to ire, his eyes blazing like a storm.

"Spike." Jade reminded him. "We have to go." Harmony wasn't completely wrong. She _had_ made a deal with the blonde vampire, who had held up her end of the bargain. She didn't want to renege on it, but she wasn't wrong about what she had said to Spike earlier. She didn't control him, and he'd despise her if she tried. She'd let him have this if it was what he wanted.

"If I ever bloody see you," Spike promised. "Within a five mile radius of Jade, I will sodding kill you. No more chances."

"Understood, Spikey—sir." Harmony squeaked as his hand rose from her mouth. Spike hadn't let go of her, dragging her next to the window.

"Oh. And jus' to make sure that y'don't miss out on the fun," the impish sparkle was back in his eyes. "You can go first."

"What? SPIKE!" Harmony's shriek of protest dwindled out somewhat as Spike pushed her out the window and she dropped. Quickly. There was a crunch as the blonde found the ground, and Spike looked down at her with an eyebrow arched.

"Think we can use her as a cushion?"

"Time to go." Jade turned to Lily, whose eyes had widened considerably. She wasn't a vampire. Broken bones were considerably more dangerous. "Wrap yourself around me."

"But—I'll be close to you." Lily reminded her.

"I won't breathe in."

Jade met Spike's eyes, saw the caution, concern. But the faith as well. He simply nodded, his arms shifting the sixteen year old over to Jade. Five years of age difference, but the Slayer stood taller. A bit hesitantly, she obediently wrapped her frame around Jade.

"Tight. Don't have my arms to hold you." Legs wrapped up around her waist, arms up around her shoulder. Jade bit back a shudder. God, that hurt. "Time?" She asked Spike.

"'Bout now."

His gaze bore into her, all the strength she could ever need, and the vampires jumped. This had been her least favorite part about flying. She liked it all, but there was something unsteadying about how her stomach threatened to drop from her each time she fell too fast. And this time, there were no branches for her to grab and thrust herself back up again. She fell faster than Spike, heavier with the combined weight of the two of them. And the ground was coming. Even over the roar of the wind, Jade could hear Lily whimper into her throat. Could feel the Slayer's grip tighten. Could hear her heartbeat, but tried to ignore it. Saw the light of the sun beginning to creep into place, and she was doubly glad that Los Angeles had such high buildings. Except she could have settled with the one they were just in for being a tad shorter.

Ground was coming. Heavy pavement. They weren't landing that far from where Harmony had fallen, and with relief, Jade saw the blonde shakily picking herself up. Didn't have shattered bones then, how lucky for her. Harmony tripped back down then, too unsteady to keep herself standing, and that was Jade's last look at her as her feet found ground. Her legs shuddered, force of impact, and she rolled, trying to deter the brunt of it, as much as she could. Lily squeaked a little as she came free, but her fall to the ground was considerably softer than it would have been. Spike was still falling, seconds behind. Her legs felt like jelly, but they were still working. Working enough for her to pour the last of her conviction into one more jump, charging into Spike.

He let out an 'oof' of surprise as she slammed into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around her as she changed their trajectory from straight down to sideways. This was more controlled now, gentler, and he let her lead as they fell in a gentler arc instead.

"Bloody hell," Spike panted as their feet hit ground.

"Spike, you big jerk!" Harmony shouted as she stumbled for the third time, finally able to hobble to her feet, undignified as she made a b-line for the vampire's building. "I think you broke something!"

"Thanks." Spike released her. "I'll leave the flyin' to y' from now on, yeah?"

Jade felt just as out of breath, despite not needing any. "Probably best." She admitted.

"Guys," Lily reminded them, staggering towards them.

Spike's eyes flew up to the sky in alarm. "Gotta get you inside now, luv."

"Which building?" She asked as they herded across the street. The normal welcoming crowd of vampire groupies had thankfully begun to dissipate as the vampires vacated the outside to go back where the sun wouldn't turn them to dust. So there weren't any crowding them and asking them why they jumped out of the building, and any inquiries were left behind them.

"Any buildin'. Then a sewer. Good network here fo' getting across town. Poofter used it all the time." Jade felt warm then, very warm, as a ray of sun peeked over the buildings. Shouldn't be warm at all. It was what, late December? There wasn't snow on the ground, but Jade could see puffs of smoke from Lily's mouth. Warm meant sizzle, meant fire. It didn't get that far, Spike slamming her into the doors of a building—a mall.

"Might be sun roofs," Lily spoke up, barely managing to keep up with the vampires, her voice coming out in huffs. They crowded to the side of the mall, keeping to the shadows. Good for more than one reason. They were covered in blood, all three of them in varying degrees. None of them were dressed for the weather, Jade and Spike didn't need to be. Lily was wearing the same, torn, dirty clothes she'd had for who knew how long. They looked more than suspicious, like miscreants running away from a murder spree. But no-one had paid attention to them so far. Guess they were used to that sort of thing in Los Angeles. "Stay away from windows. I think this building leads to the subway, though."

"Perfect," Jade murmured. She felt her whole body tremble. "We made it," She looked at Spike and Lily, and the two of them smiled back at her, equally relieved.

Spike reached out and flicked her chin. "Almost," he reminded her. "We meet up wit' the Slayers and celebrate then."

Jade nodded. It'd be real then, when they were sitting safe and away. She was still trying to get the last hour through her head. It buzzed through her, vibrating energy that coursed through her at the same time she felt her bones were made of Iridium. So tired. Her mind hadn't caught up yet. It still seemed like it could be a joke, like they'd wake up and Elijah would be standing over her, that effervescent smirk stuck like glue to his features. But the pain she felt still, twinges in her arms must mean that she was awake. It was real, with her body trembling and shaking, reliving what had only been a few hours of escape but felt like days. They'd made it. They'd _made it_.

"We win," Jade said, aloud.

"We win." Lily echoed, no doubt thinking of Jade's tumultuous speech Lily was torn and disheveled and blood-deprived like the rest of them, but she had made it too. She'd knocked the torpid look from her once-dead eyes, and while the haunts hadn't quite left her, they could go forward now. Lily had a chance to heal. They all did.

But it was Spike who Jade couldn't stop looking at. His eyes stared back at her. Calm. Grand. The embodiment of her strength and the crux where her love flowed. For better or worse.

"We win," he agreed.

* * *

 **AN:** _Yay, a moment of happiness. Not a happy ending because it keeps goiing and gooooing._ _I'm not complaining here, although I am sorry it takes so long for gratification. I promise there are good things coming, and also bad things. I'm actually working on the last chapter for this fic now, and we're nearing the end BUT it's only because I planned on this being a series (I was once going to end this first book at 100k, then 150k, then it just kept getting longer and longer and longer and holy. But because I want to feel like I finished something, soon we'll reach the end of book one), and so pretty much right after this one is done, the next will start. I might take a day off, maybe two before posting the first chapter, but it will happen. I've learned that long breaks just mean I give myself more time to procrastinate and not more time to get stuff done, so the smaller the break the better. Thank you all for reading, and sticking with me. One day I will make it worth it. Again, I'd like to thank my lovely, lovely reviewers, xXbriannaXx, Vivi H88, MarshWolffe and a huge thank you to BarbyChan4Ever, who made these amazing aesthetics for this story that I cried over and grinned at like an idiot, and can be seen here_ cordysvisions . tumblr post/154393113591/spikejade-oc-aesthetic-from-story-catch-my (you'll want to add in a .com after the tumblr bit, and take out those spaces :))

 _And my absolute thanks to everyone who keep reading and reviewing and enjoying this world as much as I do._


	84. Chapter 83

**83**

"I think he's gotten us lost again," Lily commented. Cheeky chit. Finding her spirit after it'd been near tortured out of her, but he still scowled at the subject.

"Have _not_ ," he protested. "Jus—never navigated my way down here much. Was Peaches' bloody scene, not mine. 'M doing the best I can."

They were walking through the sewers now, and no, he _hadn't_ gotten them lost. This just might not have been the most direct way, is all. Bit of the scenic route, what was the harm in that.

Minus the fact that he was carrying Lily, who hadn't been able to keep up with the vampires, and even he was noticing how tasty she smelled, and they were all bloody exhausted. Damn lucky to escape with their hides intact. All of them. Especially Jade. She didn't say a word, playing the stoic role, but she needed a bloody rest. She looked like one of them hellish angels, covered in blood, clothes all torn up, hair a mussed. Paler than anything, and red rimmed eyes. They'd only been walking for a half hour, but it felt too damn long.

She hadn't relaxed yet, either. Neither had he. His eyes were straight ahead, waiting for the buggers to plan a shift surprise on them, materialize out of nowhere like they were sponsored by Red. And where had the Witch been, anyway? Would have been a sodding help if she had utilized the rings like she'd told them she would. Could have had the cavalry come in, and not escape by the skin of their bloody teeth. He was going to give her one hell of a talking to.

Hoped she was alright.

He passed a look over his shoulder. Now that there was the opportunity to have distance between Lily and her, she'd accepted it gratefully, several paces back. Knew she could catch up with them easily enough, and he reckoned she knew it too, so the distance had gradually increased the more they stumbled around the tunnels. Bloody hell, this place was a maze.

It was by luck that he found the right exit, but he played it off with as much cool grace as he could muster.

"See, tol' you I knew where I was going," he insisted, helping Lily up first. Her arms were thin and wiry, but her strength hadn't left her, and she pried open the manhole with ease.

"Never doubted you," Jade's voice sounded from right behind him. She hadn't shown a mote of impatience with him so far for the mindless walking, but the relief on her face now was palpable as she kept carefully to the shadows. The opening of the manhole didn't immediately bathe Spike in deadly sunlight. Was nice, this winter, be with the clouds and whatnot, although some bloody snow would be nice. There seemed to be a light tent covering over the manhole as well, to deter the sun. Was definitely the right manhole. He glanced once more at Jade. She was trembling ever so slightly—more like swaying, on her feet. And he was bloody on top of the moon knowing that he'd led her right. Time to get blood, and heal. Get her back on her feet. She wasn't wretched, somehow, that just didn't seem bloody possible for her, but she was weak. Been through too much the last couple of days. He hoped it was worth it. They didn't get much solid of anything for their troubles. Just information, and it would have to do.

"Y'need a hand?" He asked her as his fingers went to the ladder. Bloody hell, even the pipes were grimy. He needed a pack of smokes, a shower and a vat of blood. Figured she felt the same way. But her arms twitched, no use to helping her climb.

She glanced up the ladder. The smile from earlier was gone from her face. Elation clearing, poor bird was just plain exhausted. He might have been speaking in fyarl for all the ease in which she was deciphering his words. But she shook her head.

"I can just jump up."

"That you can," he said, that flicker of pride substantially glued to his voice. She was bloody incredible, and that was the truth of it. He'd been more than just a bit squeamish 'bout looking down at the jump they had to make. He was a vampire but not sodding invulnerable. A bloody piano had laid him out for months, put him in wheels. What a sodding fun experience he never wanted to have again. But he'd jumped, because not another bloody choice in the matter, and even with little Waterlily on her back, she'd come up to meet him. Probably saved him Harmony's bout of wobbled knees and jelly legs. And now, he pulled himself up the ladder, reminded of all his aches and bloody pains, she hadn't gotten off any lighter. Still pulling through.

Still astonishing the bloody hell out of him.

He climbed up, a bit less than gracefully. Lucky his limbs were moving at all. Felt like he'd been run over by several, bloody mack trucks. True to her word, Jade was right behind him, her jump having a bit less energy than usual, landing on her feet unsteadily, but stayed standing.

And there was their endpoint. The manhole had led them into a secluded street, with no cars ready to drive them over and that small tent to protect from the whole bursting into flame phase Spike was eager to avoid. He turned, and there it was. Unassuming, a two story house. Less bloody ostentatious than a 60-something office building, that was for bloody sure. Running under the radar didn't surprise him. Vi was a cautious bird.

Spike led the way, striding up the sidewalk with the last portions of his energy. Bloody fueled by the knowledge he could get Jade some much needed chow. He slammed on the door a bit harder than he meant to, ignoring the doorbell. He could hear whatever activity in the house ceasing, caution overtaking the slayers as one set of resounding footsteps neared the door, pulling it open.

He'd never been so happy to see Vi. What a little shrimp she'd been once, damn near trembling when he was near her—and he'd had a soul _and_ a chip. But she stood there, her eyes going wide and her mouth open.

"Spike! We were getting worried." Her whole face lit up with a mixture of concern and relief. He hadn't seen her since Jade had been turned, when she'd just been a glorified babysitter—alright, trainer—of the little kiddo Slayers. And part of him would still see _her_ like that. And he had a spot of affection for her, but now wasn't the time to play catch up.

"The whole heart-to-heart and thrillin' tale is going to have to wait. Got some wounded and a might hungry buggers here. Need blood. Now."

Vi nodded. Pity and sympathy flashed in her expression as she noticed Lily for the first time. Not the best with the poker face, her eyes widened. "Oh, oh," Vi said. "You poor thing. We'll get you fixed up. Blood for everyone. Well. Except for you," she added, another look at Lily. She hadn't quite gotten over the rambling part of her persona, then.

"Need an invite," Spike reminded her, not quite patiently, as Lily stepped easily through the doorway as Vi ushered her inside.

"Right! Of course. Come—"

"Wait," Jade interjected, looking uneasy. Spike caught her eyes, the slight anxiety in them. "Maybe I shouldn't—"

"S' fine," He reassured her. "No helpless femmes here, luv."

Vi was looking between the two of them, confusion twitching on her lips. "Did I miss something?"

"Jus' a bit careful 'bout getting invites," Spike spoke for Jade. It was honorable of her, but they didn't always need to tiptoe. She was always thinking ahead, about the future. Or worrying about it, at least. Always that just in case factor that would drive Spike crazy. "Go ahead, Slayer."

Vi nodded, Squad leader mode taking over her features. "Come on in, Spike and Jade." She said it formally, and Spike stepped easily through the doorway. Jade hesitated, then followed. The place was actually not that shabby for a Slayer hideout. Usually they took what they could get, didn't have the luxury of too many expenses, but it was nicely furnished. Likely in case they had any visitors over of the public relations kind. Still, bit too light for his fancy, brighter yellows and oranges and not nearly enough black. There was a weapons chest, though, as he 'spected there should be.

Three more Slayers revealed themselves in the living room. All a bit older than Tigerlily, Vi hadn't taken any of the little minis with her here. Didn't blame her. Didn't feel right to him, leaving that whole nest of vampires still standing, but even with what they knew, he suspected Vi and her ilk could do just about little to nothing until their evils revealed themselves on a larger scale.

Was a big political mess waiting to happen and Spike wanted no part of it. _Had_ done his part of it. Got himself beaten to a pulp and nearly lost his—nearly lost Jade in the process. Sure, they had little more than information, but 'least the Slayerettes wouldn't be running blind any more. Better than nothing. And now they could return with what they had, give Buffy and them something to chew on.

Funny, he wasn't in a hurry to return. Not just the fact that he didn't like the comparison of him being a puppy reporting to 'is master, as much as he was glad that the torture and all that was done with and over, there was something final about returning to San Francisco. Like he'd lose what he had here.

Bloody hell, he had to figure out his barmy noggin. Didn't know what he wanted anymore, and that was the only bloody truth of it. The only fact: that he had no clue about anything.

"Jordie, need some blood. All of it. And—" Vi cast a look at her vampire companions. "Shelley, you better go out and get more."

The two Slayers nodded in unison. Looked nothing alike, one with long flowing brown hair and tight jeans, long fancy boots that seemed liable to break in a real battle, and the other, bit frumpy looking, with cropped blonde hair and large glasses. Still, they had that same Slayer-look on their face, turning out curtly to carry out their tasks. Bloody good.

"Don' worry about heating the first batch," Spike added, calling after the blonde. He flopped down onto the couch, heavily. "An' bring a straw."

"Maya, will you take…" Vi looked at Lily.

"Lily," She answered. Voice had dropped a couple of octaves. Bird was nervous now. Surely she'd recognized her own sisters. Looking at her potential, now, these women that could make the heavens thunder if they bloody wanted. Tough, amazon-like chits, but just as often a huge pain in the arse.

"Lily. Get her some nice clothes and help patch her up."

Lily looked back at Jade first, like she needed permission from big sis. Sure, was a bit rocky of starts, but it was one of those bonds made in fire and blood. And pain. Spike's chest ached. Face ached. Stomach with the rumblies. He wanted to sleep for a sodding week and a half, never mind the urgency. Buffy could wait.

He wanted her to wait.

"I'll come check on you once I get something to eat," Jade said softly, an encouraging smile as she sat next to Spike on the couch. Not too close, a cushion between them. Vi was the observational type, and she didn't miss how Jade's arms swayed unnaturally, and the pinched look of pain on the Slaypire's face as she sat down.

Lily nodded, letting herself be taken away. Reminded Spike a little of a different Bit. Though his insides would just twist into him if Dawn'd ever been through anything similar to Lily. No. Good thing that Dawn had opted for a more normal version of life. Going through university like a smart Nibblet. Not all part of her sister's empire any more. She'd gotten out of it. Spike had envied that, a bit. Thought what it would be like to retire somewhere quiet and not have to deal with Super girls and getting beaten to a bloody pulp every day.

Then again, be bloody boring.

Least he thought it would be. Thing was, staying out of the fray while Jade dealt with the new undead concept hadn't been near as dry as he thought it might be. Hadn't wished any of it away. Now, now he even missed it, a quiet little shack to sit in, watching telly and staying in for the night.

The bird named Jordie came back into sight, jars clacking together in the immense box she carried over to them, placing it on the coffee table, within reach.

"You might want the ends first, they're a little closer to expiry—" Vi started, as both he wasted no time in pulling jars from the box. "Not that it matters," the redhead finished, mostly to herself. Jade's eyes had gone golden, but a look of frustration had flashed over her expression as her fingers twitched. Spike hadn't forgotten. The first jar he unscrewed he handed to her. She gazed at him, thankful, her knees jutting up in front of her chest so she could hold it herself, sandwiching the jar tightly between her legs. Spike ripped out one of the straws that the Slayer bird had placed on the table, stabbing it into the blood. Be a bit difficult sucking it up while it was cold, but Jade wasn't deterred. Slaypire strength wasn't going to be bloody defeated by a straw. Finally satisfied that she was all set up, and ignoring Vi's fascinated gaze at the two of them, Spike finally opened his own jar and drunk deep.

Blood. It had never tasted so good. Alright, maybe the last time he'd gone on empty, waltzing around with that buggering chip in his head. Even animal blood had tasted heavenly. But God, was this tasty, cold or not. He drank greedily, quickly. Didn't have to worry as much about that over-gorging thing as a vampire. Wasn't going to get a nasty little tummy ache like a human might, at least not on that scale.

He finished his first jar and set it on the table as he heard Jade's straw hit the bottom of her jar. He switched hers, then his, and the blood-filled to empty jars ratio drastically and quickly reversed. At one point, Vi admonished Jordie for staring, but Spike couldn't have given a bloody damn, in his own hungered haze. He noticed at one point that the blood was warmed up, and that Jade could slurp it more easily. Each time, like a routine, he'd switch Jade's jar before his own. If the Slayers offered to do it for him, he didn't notice. Could feed his own Slaypire, thank you bloody much.

He slowed down before Jade did, more casually sipping at his warmed blood while she continued to down the supplies. Vi knew better than to try to talk to the starving vampires before they were done eating, so she stayed quiet, sitting across from, and putting on the telly for Spike's benefit. One of the nicer Slayer birds, really.

"How y'doing?" Spike asked Jade as he noted that her gulping had slowed as well. She let go of the straw between her teeth, licking at her mouth to clear away the blood.

"Better," She sounded breathless. "Like I've never eaten, ever." She managed a wry smile. Already the cuts on her face were starting to look better. Thinner, clotted. She could heal her surface wounds quickly enough, although the arms would still take a while. Her eyes followed his when he glanced down at her arms. "Feel a little better," The Slaypire added. It would take time, but they had as much as they bloody wanted, now. He doubted Elijah and his lot would risk coming after them. A confrontation in the open wouldn't be best for the goody two shoe vampire image they worked so hard to project. They were safe now, although Spike still had a hard time dealing with the fact that Elijah had gotten away. Still, it was more important that they escape, instead of trying to find the wanker, but still. Spike wasn't done with him, not by a longshot. He had tracked Doc all the way to Haven to make the demon pay for Spike breaking his promise to protect Dawn, and this was somehow even more tantamount. Not a bloody way was Elijah going to go off in the world without a worry in his head. Spike would be there. Make himself known. Let the vampire know that his days were numbered, and Spike was coming after him. But not today.

Jade's blunt locks had fallen in front of her face, and he noted her slight irritation, and he reached up easily, tucking it back behind her ear without much thought. Least his limbs didn't try to cry bloody murder when he moved now. The aches had settled. More blood and more rest would help him get him fully recovered, but he knew Vi had questions, although she was playing the waiting game with considerable restraint. Just bursting with questions, likely, although Spike had a few first.

"I got a bone t'pick with Willow." Spike slid his elbows forward on his knees, moving towards the red-headed Slayer. "Broad left us bloody hangin' when she said she'd be checkin in."

"Right." Vi didn't seem phased by his abrasive tone. Didn't get her all trembly like it would have in her younger days. Not as easy to intimidate, this one. "You didn't hear."

"Is she okay?" Alarm hit Jade's tone, his Slaypire's expression wide. She had a good thing going with Red. Most of the Slayerettes weren't too open armed, but Willow and her had gotten along nice enough. Bonded over that little chit, Sophie. And of course, Jade was more concerned with the fact that something might have happened to Willow, and not their near death experience that happened because of the Witch's lack of support.

"Yes. She's fine," Vi reassured her.

"Then what the bloody hell—"

"She's just not here. Here. Like on this plane."

"Plane o' what?" Spike asked, his eyebrow arching. Been on a plane before, a jet, with Angel. Didn't like it much, that time or the times prior.

"Of existence." Vi elaborated. Alright, that made a bit more sense. He'd taken a few shots to the noggin, and exhaustion wasn't quite tempered by the amount of blood he'd downed. He needed the real specific, talking to a child version of this discussion. "She's astral projecting into another realm. So she's not quite here."

"Well she picked a hell of a time to check out!" Spike growled. So the Witch hadn't had anything bad happen to her then—not that he would have wished it on her. Just trying out her magic mojo at a incon-bloody-venient time. That was less sodding forgivable, and what had happened to Jade because of it. "Who the bloody hell does she think—"

"Spike." Quiet, comforting. Breaking him out of his anger when he had a hell of a good claim to be there. He gritted his teeth, lips in a straight line as he looked at his gentler companion. "Don't shoot the messenger, remember? Let her finish." Alright, so he was halting the debriefing with his tirade, but a man had to mouth off from time to time. Or most of the time, in Spike's case. Still, he relented. She had a way of defusing him, and she was sodding tired. Likely, all she wanted was some kip, so it was best to get this debriefing part out. Logic, that's what it was. He wasn't bloody whipped or anything.

"Continue," Spike allowed, grudgingly, to Vi.

The corner of Vi's mouth twitched, an amused expression on her face as her eyes flickered between the two of them. "Alright. So, something happened. Aluwyn—"

"Bloody bless you."

"Her magical like, mentor. Teacher. She's a being in another realm. Willow discovered her a while back. Anyway, this Aluwyn helped her develop her magic more. But she needed a favor, and it was time for Willow to pay up. She _had_ to go. And she hasn't been back yet."

"Is she okay?" Jade asked, worried again, while Spike was biting back a grumble. "Like, did something go wrong? How long can she astral project for?"

"A while. Her body's okay. It's just a little empty. The coven's keeping an eye on her. But they can't contact her right now. So it's just a waiting game."

"Inconvenient," Spike muttered again.

"We got a call from Kennedy as soon as it happened. Kennedy's not worried, so it's probably fine. Just don't know when she'll be back."

"Could have used her help," Spike growled, anger not quite spent. Vi's expression flickered with sympathy.

"But you did make it," Vi said brightly. "In one piece. Mostly," The Slayer added with a look at Jade's arms.

"We're okay," Jade said, too damn forgiving.

"Did you find anything out?" Vi's eagerness was apparent. "I have a feeling they weren't quite happy with you being there," She added with a wince.

"Coupla things," Spike admitted. "Give you the whole run down an' everything." He looked at Jade. "But you should get some kip." Blood was one thing she needed, and sleep was another. What they'd gotten over the last few days could barely be counted.

"Yeah," Jade agreed. She glanced back at Vi. "Is there somewhere I can shower and—"

"Of course," Vi jerked to action. "Jordie. Show Jade to the bathroom and her guest bedroom. And get her some clean clothes, please." Vi turned her bright smile back to Jade. "That'll help, I think."

"It'll be fantastic," Jade said, grateful, rising to her feet as Jordie came back into view, the broad's expression neutral and matter-of-fact. Spike watched her arms hang down her torso, swaying uselessly. Be a bit difficult, her managing a shower by herself. Just the utter truth of it.

"Y'need any help?" He offered automatically, not thinking. "Be hard to get properly spic and span with your arms."

Vi made a light choking sound that she unskillfully tried to cover with a cough, and Jade just stopped stock still, her eyes widening.

"N-no," Jade answered, missing eloquence. "I'll manage." Getting the instinct she was embarrassed, Spike let it slide. What—wasn't anything perverse about it. Didn't make any sense to have her struggle by herself. He coulda closed his eyes. But he supposed, in Jade's point of view, that was a bit too far into the direction of an invalid. Thinking again that he was pitying her. Jade stepped past him with no more words but a quick look, stepping over to Jordie, who was waiting. He could hear Jade ask to see Lily as the duo went up the stairs, but with Vi's clearing of her throat, a light –ahem-, Spike tore his gaze from Jade and back to Vi.

"So," Vi said, probably wondering how to be diplomatic. Wisely, she skipped over the whole subject and turned to what mattered. "Tell me what you found."

"Bloody lots." Spike said, and began.


	85. Chapter 84

**84**

They were quiet as they headed up the stairs. There were no pictures on the wall, although when they made it upstairs, Jade could see the more slayer-like decorations to the place. There were no stakes or crosses in plain sight, but weapons, and a ton of them. Jade looked appreciatively at a particularly shiny machete, much preferring to look at the walls than Jordie's inquiring and curious look. Jade was ever-grateful for the lack of blush on her cheeks. And Spike had said it so casually, which of course put all types of images in her head—the ones she had to steer very, very clear of. Although to be fair, the last time they'd been in a shower together, it'd been anything but sexual or wanton. He'd done it to prove to her that she wasn't so far off from being human after all. In all honesty, it was one of the most altruistic, caring things that anyone had ever done for her. Of course, the other Slayers didn't know that, and looked at her and Spike like they were blatantly going behind Buffy's back. She knew the truth, and certainly, Spike did, but still, she could only imagine how it looked to the others.

And that was probably her problem. Always caring what someone else thought. No self-confidence at all. Spike wasn't to blame for that, not one bit. And she'd apologize later for her deer-in-headlights look, but he probably wouldn't even understand how it had looked to the others. He wasn't the kind to apologize for what made sense to him, not the one to tip toe around and try to make nice with everyone. No, that was definitely more Jade's forte. Jade made a face.

They were in a hallway of several rooms, and Jordie stepped up to the second one from the right and knocked on it. Jade could tell that there was two people in the room—could hear what they were saying, if she wanted to, but she refrained. There was someone else walking around on this floor as well, one of the Slayers she hadn't yet met. There weren't a lot of them here, just enough to be formidable, but not a force. Made Jade uneasy, thinking of how the Vampires in L.A. far outnumbered, not to mention, had the public on their side. Still. This battle wasn't so much one of the physical variety. It was politics. They should be safe for now. Be able to handle themselves, if any wicked their way came. And the information she and Spike had picked up should help.

She at least hoped so. Had to be worth it, although saving Lily from that place was a win, it wasn't that easy. Lily was far from unscarred. Maybe she was alright now, moving, smiling. But in the quiet nights, the empty silence, that would haunt her for a long time. Jade considered herself lucky. Let off easy. Not so much Lily. Elijah had ripped his way inside her body and mind, and he sure as hell was going to pay for it. Someday.

"Come in," Not Lily's voice, so it had to be Maya's. A dark skinned girl with delicate features was sitting next to Lily on the bed as they entered. Lily's hair was damp, and nearly tangle free as Maya worked her way through it with a comb delicately and gently. Cascada played quietly in the background. Lily was clothed in comfy-looking sweats and a long, dark red shirt. A proper bandage secured her wrist now, and Jade was glad that the slight scent of salt and blood from the freshly cleaned wounds didn't bother her as much. Her stomach was comfortably full for what seemed like the first time in forever. She'd drunken that blood like she'd never have another chance. It had never been so delicious. She hadn't even had an errant thought about how Slayer blood would have been better. No, with her hunger sated, her control was back, and the aching pain from her arms was enough to keep her in line. Confident, even. She'd rejected blood when she was at her worst, and now she was at her best.

Maybe she would be the first and only vampire in history who never had a taste of human blood. It didn't seem as impossible now, not after what she'd been through.

"Hi," Lily said, shyer now in the presence of her somewhat intimidating sisters, although Maya seemed gentle, comforting as she continued to carefully detangle Lily's mass of black hair.

"You look like a new person," Jade said. "No longer with the refugee look. I'm on my way to join you in the ranks of the clean."

Lily's lips turned into a small, bright smile. Unfortunately, Jade knew how her words weren't true enough. If only a shower was enough for a completely new start. Lily didn't keep her for long, not saying much, she seemed grateful that Jade had dropped in, although Jade had no hesitation about leaving her with the gentle Maya, trusting she was in good hands. For now, it was time to rest. The thinking and deciding would have to happen the next day. Tracking down Lily's family and reuniting them. Protecting the potentials—all of that. Trying not to think about Spike. That could wait for tomorrow. For now, she just wanted a shower and a bed.

Jordie started the water for her, thankfully making no comment about Spike. At least she could shut off the knob easily enough when she was done. Jordie put it hot, very hot, as Jade asked. She didn't have to worry about it scalding her skin like she would have as a human, and she wanted the soothing feel on her muscles. She watched the slayer place some new clothes to the side, hoodie and sweats that were new and nice looking, although Jade was so relieved about getting out of her dirty clothes that she would have worn just about anything that was clean.

"Do you need any help with your clothes?" Jordie's carefully placid tone broke her out of her reverie. Jade winced a bit. She should really be over this embarrassment by now. She was an adult. No need to get all flustered. All women here, right, even if Jordie was pretty much a stranger. She had to get over her embarrassments eventually. At least she didn't blush.

"If you don't mind?" Jade asked, glad that Jordie didn't make a face, just nodded. Honestly, after all she'd been through, the least of her daily pain should be worrying about judgement. She hated being shy. It was a terrible affliction. "Just with my shirt and pants, and the rest I can manage."

Jordan nodded, her expression unreadable as she stepped up to Jade, reaching towards Jade's dress shirt. Was a very good thing that Jade hadn't accepted Spike's offer. The thought of him helping her with this was—disconcerting, really. Or maybe just painful. He'd do it, because it was the obvious thing to do—she couldn't 'bloody well' undress herself, could she. And he wouldn't see what his touch would do, how it'd mess up all her emotions even more than they already were. Trick her into believing in the impossible.

No, the awkwardness of a stranger helping her was much more preferable.

And then there was a knock on the door. A quick rapping, one that Jade could only barely respond to with a, "Come in?" before it was opened, and there in all his glory, was Spike. The bright white lights of the bathroom which Jade could only assume watched her pastel palette out in a unsightly way, it only served to highlight all the colors of Spike, his platinum blonde hair, askew in softer curls, rather than gelled back, the touch of dirt to his cheekbone and bruises on his lower jaw, the crimson brilliance of a cut on his lower, pronounced lip.

And of course, those spellbinding eyes, a vibrant, bone-chilling blue.

She looked at him greedily, drinking in the sight like it'd been days, not minutes. She was pathetic. She couldn't avoid the sight of him wherever she went, but she didn't even have the possibility of pretending that she wasn't completely mesmerized by him. All he had to do was be in the room. She felt like a teenager with a crush on a movie star. And it wouldn't have been so pathetic, wouldn't have pitiful if she didn't know that he didn't reciprocate her infatuation. But she knew otherwise.

What she didn't know was why he was there, his beguiling eyes on hers for only a second until they landed on Jordie.

"Give us a mo? Or a coupla." He phrased it like a question, but there was little doubt it was an order. The Slayer hesitated. She shot an askance look at Jade, but it wasn't to ask for permission, more a curious, introspective look. Whether by a habit of obeying rules, or a level of trust for the white-haired vampire, Jordie shrugged, hazel eyes flickering over them once more before she stepped out of the room. If she had complaints, or suspicions, the Slayer was reserved enough not to voice them, although if she was about to voice her observations to Vi, or worse—report it to high command Buffy, Jade had no idea.

She wondered if she was always this paranoid, this worried about what others thought of her, or if it was just now. Now that she'd been exposed, her inner thoughts and feelings so on display for Spike, she was convinced everyone else saw it too, saw the one-sidedness of it.

There was a few seconds of silence, nothing but the heavy patter of the water falling onto the tiled floor. Spike didn't speak first, which was odd for him, his eyes darting from hers down to the cuts on her lower jaw and throat.

"Did it go alright?" Jade asked, to break the quiet. Had he come up here to tell her something? It had been only a half hour since she'd left him talking to Vi, so it was possible he was done the briefing. "Done already?"

"Gave her th' abridged version," Spike shrugged his sturdy shoulders. His eyes narrowed marginally, his lips open partially as he hesitated. Spike rarely hesitated, and putting up a filter was definitely not one of his go-tos.

"Came to give y' a hand." Spike said then, his head nodding towards the shower, a casual, easy gesture while Jade froze, a lump the size of a hand, it seemed, leaping to her throat. "Can't give yourself a proper clean with your arms like that." He said it admonishingly, as if he was instructing a child. "Better me than Silicone Slayer," he dipped his head back to where Jordie had disappeared.

Something akin to panic rose up in her stomach, threatening to swath her in it. Damn the ease in which he said it, like ticking off a shopping list. It was so easy for him. He didn't have to think about it, no second guessing. He just saw the problem and presented the solution that made the most sense. Didn't understand why it would give her pause. Just didn't compute for him. But she knew, knew now that the danger was over and they no longer knew the next minute could be their last that they had reset. Of course they would. He no longer had to worry about her safety, or feel guilt for her. It'd go back to Buffy. It would have to.

In the meantime, she'd be the one caught up in the crossfire, swept up in a fantasy that wasn't real.

It just wasn't fair.

"What was that, luv?" Spike frowned. Jade gave a start when she realised she'd said it aloud, then steadied herself. Well, it was the truth, wasn't it?

"Spike…" She started, licking her lips. She didn't know how to put it into words. She never did.

"No need t'go all diplomatic," Spike's vibrant blue eyes narrowed another millimeter. "Just say it, woman."

"I, uh. I'm okay. I can manage."

"Like hell." He answered back with incredulity, snorting. "How y'going to wash your hair. Wash em wounds good an' proper? Gotta check those arms, too. Swinging around like a helicopter hasn't helped you none."

"It can't be you." The words burst from the tip of her tongue of their own accord. "I appreciate it, but it can't be you."

"Can't be me?" Spike took a second to process it, then staggered over to her. The closer he was, the taller he seemed, eyes looking down at her with their piercing intensity. "Why bloody not? Stranger's sodding preferable, is it?" A flash of hurt across his face, tightening his lips, those damning cheekbones of his becoming more pronounced.

And damn her for the flicker of guilt at _his_ pain, his discomfort. Making _her_ feel bad for refusing his help. But she had to. Someone else— _anyone_ else was better right now. Hadn't that been exactly what she'd been thinking before he'd showed up?

And then he _had_ shown up. And somehow, that tipped the balance. Always tipped the balance, in the way it put her on her head and all her innards fell around, knocking into each other and disorienting her.

"You know what I mean," Jade said tiredly. It felt like a flashback to the cages, when Spike had all but yelled at her for her confession. If she'd been able to bury herself into a hole at that point, she likely would have. She felt the same impulse now. This was awful. She'd wrecked everything. If she hadn't felt this way about him obviously enough that goddamn _Harmony_ could pick it up, it wouldn't be like this. She wouldn't feel so piteous.

"I do bloody not." Spike sounded affronted, rather than grieved. "Speak your bloody mind, luv. I'm not a mind reader. Not anymore." He added, with the memory of their broken telepathy rings.

"It's just not fair, alright?" Jade said, her first words making her sound like a petulant child who didn't get that car for her eighteenth birthday that she wanted. No, for her eighteenth birthday, she'd gotten a failed cruciamentum and an undead boyfriend, but that was beside the point. And as much as that had torn her to shreads, this was a slower, just as debilitating process. "You offer because it makes sense. Jade's struggling; she can't use her arms. Problem, solution. It's not like that for me. It's not easy being near you, knowing—I just don't want your pit—"

He moved then, a blur that she didn't try to—or possibly wasn't even capable of—stop, his hands gripping her slim shoulders and pushing her back, until the glass door of the shower door pressed to her back. It was hot, the steam swirling against the glass and reminding her that the water was still going. But even Spike's anger seemed calculated, his hands on her shoulders and not her arms carefully arranged, and even the pressure her applied wasn't overwhelming.

"Not. Bloody. Pity." He forced out each word. "Get that through your thick, bloody skull. 'M trying to help 'cause I want to, not 'cause it's my charity work o' the bloody year. You're sodding more than that," frustration behind his words gradually became benignant, and Jade felt frozen.

"Y'do it for me, wouldn't you?" He demanded. "'F I were the cripple." He said the words unrepentantly, not one to hold back harsh words to spare feelings. "Wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Jade admitted, a flash of triumph across his expression. "If you wanted me to." She added, pointedly.

Spike's expression softened, as did his hold on her, releasing her. "Then want me to," He said softly. "Come on, Bloody Mary. 'Ve been through hell and back. Don't act like I'm the bloody Elephant man now jus' to protect yourself."

Protect _herself_. That was what she was doing, wasn't it? Well, didn't she deserve to? How unselfish did love have to be? As unreciprocated as it was, she should be able to do that. How bared did she have to get? And why did she have to feel sorry for _him_ , the thought of how it felt to him, learning that she was in love with him and doing everything she possibly could to get out of it. She tried not to answer that question, but she did anyway. It'd hurt, and that was the last thing she wanted for him.

"You're far from the Elephant man," Jade murmured then, finally. Spike stared back at her for a long moment, and his lips twitched into a smirk. Not a presumptuous, haughty smirk, but a relieved one.

"Should bloody hope so," Spike answered. He stood there then, waiting for the okay. For her go-ahead. And he, like had so many times, had melted her barriers. She couldn't refuse him. She couldn't even remember how.

"Okay," she said, a whisper that she cleared her throat for and repeated, louder, surer. "Can you give me a hand, please?"

He'd let the waiting Slayer outside the bathroom door that her presence wasn't required, earning an eyebrow twitch and piercing look, but no argument. He'd turned back to her then.

"Wastin' hot water," He'd noted.

"That's your fault," Jade pointed out, not that she'd really need it. Vampire. Now that she had food in her belly, she'd no longer feel the cold as she had been starting to.

"Guilty," Spike admitted. He stood in front of her then. Hands half extended towards her. "We'll keep your skivvies on," he'd reassured her, in case she had qualms, or maybe he was assuring himself. He'd been upset by Elijah's assault on her, and she was sure he was reliving some of it now as his fingers neared her buttons. As for her, she really had been through worse. She knew Lily certainly had, and though it wasn't the way it should work, Jade felt her own experience paled in comparison. It had been humiliating and degrading, and painful, especially for Spike witnessing it, but she didn't feel the revulsion or urge to shy away from touch because of it. Especially not Spike's. Her mind was settled. Knew that she shouldn't enjoy Spike being near her, shouldn't take this more to heart than the friendship in which it was offered.

"It's okay," She murmured, in reassurance. Spike took a breath he didn't need, his reluctance endearing, the gentleness in which he deftly applied his fingers to her buttons even more so.

Yes, her mind knew where she should stand, but her body was a different matter. She relaxed at his touch, leaned slightly in instead of standing stiff and at attention. When his thumb brushed her collarbone, she shuddered, a pleasing warmth from the feel of it, though Spike hesitated, mistaking it for a wince.

"It's okay," she said again, and he nodded. He revealed her soul, and she felt safe, not like when Elijah had seen it. She'd been terrified beyond reason. Pictured him ripping it from her neck and everything going black. But it hadn't happened. She reminded herself of that. She had her soul, and she and Spike were free. There was no more need to fear the nightmare.

"You can rip it," Jade said. "They have new clothes for me, and I don't need a keepsake for our time locked in a vampire nest." She should have mentioned it before, saved him the uncomfortable re-enactment of undoing buttons, but she hadn't been thinking.

"Y'don't mind?" He asked, still uncertain. His concern was touching, in more ways than one. Damn him for being so gentle, so considerate. And damn her for wishing he was more of an ass, with the knowledge that it'd make it easier. Easier not to have fallen for him so hard.

She shook her head in answer. With calculated slowness then, he bunched the two sides of the shirt in his hands and easily tore the stained, dirty shirt, the buttons popping off and falling to the tiled floor. To his credit, his eyes didn't leave her eyes, although the bad lack of self-confidence she still had yet to shake thought treacherously that it wouldn't be hard for him to keep his eyes off her body. But she pushed the perfidious thought away. She didn't want pity from Spike, she wouldn't do it to herself either. His eyes still on her, he slipped the shirt away from her shoulders, shifting it away with his foot as it fell to the floor. The one sleeved, crumpled mess of a shirt. She never wanted to see it again.

"Just undo the button, and I can get it off myself," Jade said, when he glanced down to her pants. His earlier confidence was offset by the slow and gentle care he was determined to exercise. A shiver coursed through her, starting at her belly button as his thumb inadvertently brushed the skin at the top of her waistband. A spark, like a shock was felt at his touch, her stomach muscles clenching. It was so strange, to be touched in what was intimate, though not sexual. Hadn't been with anyone since Bennett, and this was Spike. It was like one of her dreams she'd indulge in and never admit.

Except it was happening. It was real. For better or worse.

Probably for worse. But for now, now, she'd live in this little dreamland. Let the consequences come later.

He undid her pants, the pressure laxing so it was a simple and often practiced routine to place her foot on the cuff of her opposite pant leg, raising that leg as she shimmied out of her slacks and easily shed them to the ground, kicking it away much as he had done her shirt. She tried not to think about how little she was wearing in front of him now. _Just like wearing a bathing suit_ , she told herself. Wasn't so inappropriate to show so much skin when she was on the beach in a bikini—not that she'd be able to do that unless the sun was long down—so there was no need to be self-conscious now.

"In y'go," Spike said, opening the shower door for her, her skin awash with the steam as it assaulted her, a warm, thick cloud. He shifted uncomfortably as she stepped in, his eyes not leaving hers. "'ll help you with your hair. Soap," Spike said, tone gruff, but not unkind. Nothing about him was unkind. His hands hovered around the bottom of his shirt, as if debating, but ultimately, decided against it, stepping in right after her, fully clothed. In all honesty, she was relieved. Shirtless Spike was a bit too much for her to handle.

The water wasn't so hot now, but still lukewarm. Spike just watched her, his eyes half-slitted, like a cat's as she leaned against the marble slabbed wall, enjoying the feeling of the water on her skin, the soothing warmth. Sorry Slayers hydro bill. But she needed this. The last time they'd been in a shower together, there hadn't been the companionable silence. She'd needed an awakening, a reminder that being a vampire wasn't the end of the road, and he'd provided it. Ripped a hole in her chest to hold her heart, get it beating again. As sentimental—and painful—as the gesture had been, she didn't need him to repeat the gesture. She had enough holes in her.

"What's the V for?" Spike's voice broke her out of her reverie. Her eyes still closed, she turned her face towards him, water peppering her lips and chin, a nice numbness.

"It's a five, remember?" She was lightly teasing. They'd had this near conversation. Months ago, now. When he'd patched her up the first time they'd ever met each other. Being without a shirt then had been a minor discomfort, but not a debilitating one. She hadn't known him then, there wasn't as much to be embarrassed about. It wasn't as… profound and complex as it seemed to be now.

"Yeh, right." She opened her eyes to see him. His eyes were glancing at the mark over her heart, the tattooed, dark red, nearly black mark, the only inked mark on her skin. His eyes looked up to hers, gentlemanly like—bit belated. "Whatsit mean?"

She licked her bottom lip. It wasn't a story that would lighten the mood, something entertaining and comical that might make him laugh and shake his head. But he'd asked, so he'd get the answer. "It was how many people… humans, that Bennett killed. After I let him go, for my Cruciamentum, instead of killing him. Convincing myself that just because he was a vampire, without a soul, maybe he'd be different. I was wrong. Those people paid the price. A family. Five before I hunted him down and ended it."

His expression was sympathetic. She half expected a sentiment of, 'well what do you bloody 'spect, you're a Slayer, should know about evil vampires, you dumb bint', but that wasn't the answer she got. "'M sorry," He said, sincere.

She gave him back a wan smile. "So was I." Her voice was a whisper, and would have been drowned out by the smashing of shower water against their bodies, if not for his vampire hearing. Despite staying back, he hadn't completely avoided the water, his black shirt beginning to get soaked, sticking tight to his built torso. Dirt and blood had flowed from the both of them, swirling down into the drain.

He turned to the shampoo bottle then, muttering something about the girly, fruity smells and settling on an apple-scented one. He poured the contents into his hand, cupping it in his palm. "Turn 'round," He said to her then, and she complied. The buzzing she always felt, as a Slayer who had a vampire behind her was present, but it was more than just a knowledge of having a should-be sworn foe at her back that had her stomach tighten.

This was Spike, right behind her, as his hands applied gentle pressure to her dampened hair, working a lather through the locks. It felt. It felt really nice, her treacherous body humming with pleasure at the gentle, relaxing massage. She closed her eyes, felting her knees turn to figurative jelly. His fingers brushed her neck as he worked the lathe into her hair, down the bottom of her skull. She shuddered at the feel of his fingers on her neck, a tingly feeling because of it. Sensitive neck, it was far too nice. Far too nice, the whole thing. And she should know better. Should stop this whole thing right now before she dug herself too deep. But she didn't. Stupidly, pathetically. Resignedly.

Spike's thumbs had halted when he felt her shudder, his finger poised over her bite mark, the ever-present scar from Mandy, thinking that was the source of her discomfort.

"Sensitive neck, sorry." Jade said, to assure him. "Er, not the pain kind," She added, although she should have just kept her mouth shut. He would have been more careful about avoiding the area, and she wouldn't have to deal with the traitorous tingles. There was a light, understanding chuckle from behind her instead, and his thumbs pressed back down to her skin, eliciting another shiver.

She was stupid, stupid, stupid. It would just be worse in the long run, she knew that. But her defenses were reduced to zero because of Spike and his stupid, relaxing hands. And she couldn't even stay cross, with that thought in her head, the sentiment so childlike she couldn't even take it seriously. And Spike's thumb was moving to the base of her skull, pressing down lightly there. Now her legs did actually feel like jelly, and she stumbled. Her upper back jarred against something firm and cushiony, Spike's chest as he pressed forward to steady her. One hand reached out to steady her, catching her elbow, but gently.

"Don't. Tease," Jade said, meaning to sound confident and assertive, but it came out petulant instead. There was another aggravating chuckle.

"'M sorry, Super girl," he said, this time sounding resoundingly less sincere. "You're all ticklish in your neck. Hard to resist."

"Not ticklish!" Jade insisted, indignantly. She felt fingers trace feather-soft across the side of her neck again, eliciting another tremor and her shoulders shot up to protect herself, though it was hardly a deterrent. "Hey! Stop that!"

"Not ticklish m'arse. Found new weakness. You'll have to be nice to m' now. No arms to protect yourself." Spike said, smugly. She felt his thumb brush her skin once more, and she swivelled, pressing down hard on the arch of her foot to keep herself steady and not slip. There he was, such a haughty, impish look on his face, a wide smile on his lips, and his eyes shining. He was absolutely breathtaking.

And deserving of a good ass-kicking.

Her leg jutted up, catching him in the torso. He stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise as his back knocked to the shower's wall. Before he could step back, she pinned him there with her knee to the chest. He struggled vainly, but there was no moving her unless she wanted to be moved, arms or no arms.

"No more. Tickling," She said, trying to sound very severe as she chastised him. He didn't say anything, his dark, scarred eyebrow twitching as he gave her an amused, pointed look. With a flush she was glad wouldn't show on her cheeks, she realised how she must look, her bare, very bare leg pinning him helplessly to the shower wall. Big no. Big oops. Big stop now. With that less than eloquent train of thought, she released him immediately. "I mean it," She continued, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice. "Behave."

"'ll mind my Ps and Qs," Spike said as he straightened, with an innocent look on his face that was far from believable. "Like a lit'l choir boy."

"Sure," Jade said with a fair amount of skepticism. But she was smiling. Couldn't help herself. The faux innocence was endearing, as outlandish as it was on him, acting as if he was perfectly harmless. But the shampoo was starting to slip between her shoulders, and down her forehead, so she closed her eyes and stepped back into the full spray of the water. The water pounded across her ears, colder now, but not uncomfortable. A moment later, she felt him step near again, hands back on her skull as he washed out the shampoo. His touch was purposeful now, behaving, as he carefully and efficiently rinsed the shampoo from her short, blunt locks, adding a bit of conditioner at the ends to soak them.

The fruity, delectable smell was a pleasing scent, and she breathed it in fully, relaxing again. She opened her eyes after she felt most of the shampoo was gone, and the danger of getting some in her eyes—which still damn well stung, vampire or not—seeing Spike in front of her, another bottle in hand. This one was a body wash, and she was grateful for her lack of blush. That was something she'd rather do herself—having Spike's touch on her neck was one thing, but the rest of her was another.

He must have seen the uneasiness flare up in her expression. "Just gonna let it run down," He assured her, placing copious amounts on her shoulders and being true to his word, not rubbing it in anywhere, and letting the water carry it instead. She winced as some ran down her back, where the shampoo had just barely missed, the large, deep cuts from where the beartrap had bit into her skin. He saw her flinch of pain. He would have seen the cuts earlier when he had been behind her, and his expression was understanding. He must have had several of his own cuts, and bruises, more than the ones she could see, especially with how covered he was.

And her treacherous mind wished, for a second, that he was as equally bare as she was.

For maybe more than a second.


	86. Chapter 85

**85**

He hadn't been able to focus. Coupla words had come from his mouth, explaining the most important bits to Vi, but his attention had kept drifting upstairs. Didn't seem right to leave her at the mercy of a Slayer who couldn't manage a smile or two. Jade thrived on encouragement, without it she was a shy, uncertain muddle. And despite the increasing capability that he had seen in her fingers, able to unfurl and furl them completely now, he hadn't missed the tremors in her from the still ever-present pain.

Blood or not, she'd take a while to heal.

And he wasn't about to leave her to do it alone. That's not how they worked. It was a partnership of trust that he'd only barely experienced. Sure, there had been dependence and loyalty in his time with Dru, but truth was, his Dark Princess would never have gone to the same lengths to save him as he would her. As for Buffy, well, those years had been tempered by a bare tolerance for him, even when he was saving her life. No, he'd given all he bloody had and most of the time, got sod all in return. He was the poor git who got taken advantage of. But not this time. Jade shouldered half, if not more. Asked for so bloody little in return.

What'd been done to him shouldn't be allowed to be done to her. Wasn't right. She was… she was many things. The poet in him could write down her qualities all day and night long. Wouldn't be exaggerating. She was good, inherently so. And he couldn't stop thinking of her, climbing up those steps in his mind. The moment she was gone from his sight, there was a sudden emptiness, an impatient that broiled up and pounded in his chest. She hadn't invaded him, like a sudden disease that coursed through his body and rewrote everything for its own pleasure. She was the ocean wave, bringing particles of sand with her with every ebb, slowly, but surely, claiming him beneath the watery depths.

Bloody hell, he hadn't banished his poetry at all. And his prose confused him, the subject of it. What'd he mean then? How'd he feel about her? What was he supposed to do?

Questions unanswered, he had risen to his feet while Vi had been saying something, and she gave him a critical, and then understanding look as she shrugged her slim shoulders. "Maybe we can finish this later," She'd said, and he nodded, some cockamie story made up about how he needed some kip, or had to check on something, and he'd gone up the stairs to find Jade.

And that was why he was with her now, the water running over them both. Maybe he'd tried to trick himself, think himself a easily fooled git, thinking it'd just be the same as last time. Been nothing confusing about the last time they were in a shower together. Nothing that wrapped up all his insides. Just a damaged Jade and a need to fix it. Force some sense into her.

Now it was putting back some pieces that'd nearly been lost. And hell, his unbeating heart'd nearly jumped out of his chest when she had allowed him to help remove her clothes. He hadn't tried to think of Elijah, the git, but of course, he'd hated how their motions had been alike. But she was standing in front o' him, nothing but her skivvies, and thought of Elijah had melted away.

He felt shy then, like the virgin, awful poet he'd been in days of old. Bloody glad his stutter hadn't come back. Be awfully embarrassing. So he'd been gentle, treating her like a piece of glass because Lord knew her body couldn't take any more abuse. Broken arms, cuts, bruises. Hell, he wasn't all perfectly in fine feathers either, but a sight better than her.

And yet she was beautiful. Should he try to ignore that thought, or let it seep into his bones? She stood there, steady. Her eyes meeting his unapologetically. Timid, but not afraid. Not afraid of him at all, they blazed with saccharine intensity. And he'd kept his eyes there, lest he forget himself.

And he was very close to forgetting himself. Bloody hell, when had this gotten so hard? So confusing. Damn near rankled him, how complicated it got. Used to be there was only one truth in his newly souled life—and even before that—that he owed his soul and his heart to Buffy. She was the only one he wanted, though he'd deviated to get his mind off the fact she would never love him back.

This wasn't a deviation. Jade wasn't a deviation.

He bloody well hoped so. Couldn't take the chance that this was all it was. Hurt her in the process. He had to still be in love with Buffy, or what had his sacrifices, his redemption been for, if he was that sodding fickle.

It was a mess. He shouldn't have done this. Jade thought she was the only one being muddled by this? Not a sodding chance. Spike drank in her sight hungrily, even as he knew he shouldn't.

He was right buggered.

And she was so soft, so trusting. Didn't flinch from him at all, even if he'd understand it, after wanker Elijah's unprecedented touch, but there was no caution, not with him. Just undying trust in those twin blue eyes, looking at him like he was made of gold. She'd turned from him when they'd entered the shower, her eyes closed as she soaked the water in. And he could just… look. Look more than he ought to, but bloody hell, he was only a man.

'Cept he hadn't been, not for a century. Been slowly regaining it, piece by piece. Didn't think he'd ever really get there again, but being around Jade made him feel closer. Like he didn't have to atone for all the bloody awful things he'd done, like he could just surge forward.

And he needed that. Something in his unlife to reach for.

Her skin was becoming rosier, no longer the sick pale, or even her normal pale as the heat brought a flush back to her cheeks, making her look more like she had as a human. Her brown hair was nearly black as the water coursed through it, the water patting it down to the shape of her skull. She leaned with a leonine grace, relaxed as the water ran down her body. Her body… he was trying very hard to ignore it. The delicate, slender curves, the way her scant material held fast to the gentle, slight curves of her. The strength in her muscles, even as her body relaxed. Even the way her arms hung just seemed natural, serene, rather than useless. She had leaned like that for a long time, while Spike was going crazy just watching and waiting. He was confronted with the buggering knowledge that she shouldn't be affecting him like this, but the truth was that she _was_.

Running his fingers through her hair and lathering it up with shampoo had been much a treat for him as it had been for her. He could feel the knots in her muscles loosen, a happy sigh bursting from her lips, so near a moan that it was bloody overwhelming. She was so soft, pliable beneath his touch. He hadn't done this before. Alright, he'd taken care of Dru. Washed her, bathed her, listening to her babble about Miss Edith and the stars. And he'd showered with Buffy a few weeks ago, on his second trip back to San Francisco after she'd decided to finally give them a go. Hadn't been no slow, relaxing cleanliness session though. Been fast and dirty, passionate and a distraction. Had barely been able to touch Buffy, so determined the blonde was to get exactly what she wanted, to lead the charge. No time for buildup.

But here, it was gentle, slow. Not even sexual, although bloody hell if his mind didn't get infected by that semblance of thought. He wasn't trying to be a git. He was trying to be the good one for sodding once. Help her out when she needed it. Not thinking about what he got out of it. 'Cause there was plenty.

The jeans he was wearing were bloody uncomfortable, all weighted down with water and sticking to him, and he had to make extra sodding sure that it wasn't sticking in the wrong places. Least she hadn't been looking at him, much, and he'd been on his best behavior til he noticed how she wriggled when his fingers had touched her neck. Been harder to behave after that, so he hadn't bothered. Not until she'd turned 'round in a blaze of glory and proved to him just how _not defenseless_ she was, arms or no arms. So he'd went back to business, although he couldn't help but teasing her with smirks, now that she was faced towards him, a sulky, not-so-serious grumpy look on her face from the tickle session. And he'd picked something equally fruity smelling, an overpowering girly redolence, but with a house full of birds, he couldn't expect the opposite. And she like those apple smells, and vanilla. She wasn't one to overload with the perfumes, so he had to tell from the shampoos her hair would come back out smelling like. This was a body wash, something to help get the last of the grime off of her, wash every last bit of the experience down the drain. She'd hesitated then, and he'd done as he said, letting the water wash down the particles, and not him. Watched her eyes closed again. So tranquil, even after what had happened, he'd managed to calm her, an explicit trust in her relaxed body language.

And sod it all to hell, but it felt right. Felt right watching her, felt his fingers twitch as they did nothing, yearning to run his fingers through her hair one more time. And didn't. He couldn't be a bastard, even though he was. She didn't want him to tease her, make it worse. He could understand that. Fact is, he hadn't expected it to get worse for _him._ Thought he could do this, no problem. Wouldn't muddle up his head and run him all upside down. But it had, was doing it right sodding now. So hard to play the helpful, selfless gentleman that she probably deserved, who'd keep at a cool arm's length because it was better for her, because all he wanted to do was take her in his arms.

All he wanted. And he shouldn't. Should think of Buffy. The intensity of her emerald eyes. The fire in her when she was dancing, the power behind her strikes. Should be thinking of her. Be a good lit'l love's bitch.

But instead, he was being what Jade deserved. Gentle, considerate. Present. And he wanted more. Wanted to reach up and grab her and he couldn't. 'Cause it was a sodding mess, what was wrong and what was right. And he had a soul now. Should have been easy. Should be so bloody easy, not this sodding conundrum.

He was disappointed and relieved when she spoke up. They'd been in quiet for long, drawn out minutes. He'd been letting her close her eyes, half a half-kip in the now freezing water, but her eyes flickered open almost lazily, a content look on her face.

"Think I'm good now. You mind getting the water?" She said it so sodding casually, while he was all in a twist. He couldn't look at her when she stepped from the shower—couldn't, was shouldn't. Shouldn't but did anyway, the water still a shiny presence on her alabaster skin as she pressed open the glass door with her knee and stepped through. He muttered a 'bugger' under his breath, obediently turning off the water before following her out onto the floor. The steam and colder air pricked at his skin, but it didn't bother him overmuch. Wouldn't bother her much either, not in the shivery cold way it would have when she had been a human, but he grabbed the towel anyway, a large, rather ugly brown color that seemed fuzzy and massive, draping it over her nearly-naked body. Was a relief to see her covered, and a delighted smile graced her lips as she cuddled up to the towel like it was trying to give her a hug, dropping a 'thank you' for his benefit. She loved warm, comfy things. Large, oversized sweaters. Big ol' sweatpants. No, she wasn't about the outward appearance, she was about what was snug and comfortable. Not trying to win any fashion awards. Didn't need em.

"I'm alright now," She was saying, breaking from her euphoric towel-hugging to look at him placidly. She was still a bit twitchy lookin' at him, if she figured it was about to explode on her like some huge joke. If only it were that easy. Ha ha, Spike the bloody pig, playing another joke and being an arse because he could do what he wanted. Was his own man. Had no morality, didn't have to worry 'bout hurting the bird's feelings. Cept he did. "I can manage the rest myself?" There was that twitchiness again, hesitation instead of calmness in her blue gaze as she looked at him.

Yep. Take the exit and go. Get out of here before he muddled up his noggin any further. Best thing to do. Smart thing to do.

"How're you going to manage to get on your fancy new garb, then?" He said instead, waving at her clothes. She frowned then, realising he was right. Bloody git he was. Needed to keep his mouth shut. Shoulda done it. But it was bloody obvious, innit? She was damn near useless at taking her clothes off, be even worse trying to get the new ones on. Why come in and do a job half-cocked. Came this far, needed to finish the job.

Needed to stop with the sexual, bloody annotations. Three in a bloody row.

"Right," She said. "Well you don't have to—"

"'M finishing the job," His treacherous mouth shot off. "Better than Slayerbot comin' back. More comfortable with 'er helping you?"

Her lip twitched, as if she was seriously considering pretending that was the case, but he knew her better than that. "Don't be rude," She said instead, stalling the whole decision making part of it. "She's not a robot."

"Luv, she has less expression than that sodding carpet you're hugging."

Jade frowned. Least she tried to, came out more like a pout, her bottom lip sticking out. Bloody. Hell. "This is a nice towel. And okay, alright." She said, as his mouth opened, about to come out with some other snarky response, and pushing the matter further. Didn't know why he didn't just escape with his tail between his legs.

Cept he did know. As hard as it was staying here, the mixture of fruit aromas and somehow Jade's underlying, undeniable scent, something that was her, it was harder to turn his back. Not while she was like this, vulnerable and trusting all at once. Beautiful and right. In front of him. Did that mean his attention would be so easily diverted if Buffy was there instead, or waiting outside the door for him to turn heel and return to her? Bloody hell, if he knew. And he certainly didn't.

"Right-o, then," He answered, with a shrug he hoped oozed nonchalance. At ease, that's what he was. Perfectly at ease and none else to bother him. He stepped to her clothes, the new ones, little gray sweatpants and a big ol' black hoodie. He turned back to her, and she was waiting, and he had the distinct impression that she had just gulped. An' he felt nervous too. Shouldn't. He was just being the gentleman, alright? Giving a sodding hand and nothing else besides.

God, when had this gotten so bloody complicated?

She rose a foot delicately, and he crouched, bunching the pant leg 'round her ankle. She changed position then, instead of leaning against the counter behind her, she jumped up a little, to sit on the counter. Now she was just sitting there, both her feet off the ground, open to him. Cept for that towel he was beginning to regret giving to her. She'd wrapped it tightly around herself, least as much as she could manage with no arms, keeping it securely centered with the help of her chin. Good, good. Less skin bared. And at the same bloody time, sodding disappointment.

The pants part was easy enough. Once they were 'bout her legs, simply pulling them up was no sodding brain surgery. Even kept his fingers carefully on the outside, not even brushing her thighs as he raised the waistband up to her hips. Tried to keep his eyes away. Not so good at that. Powerful muscles bunched beneath her legs. Her arms had always been a bit on the skinny side, little bit like tiny tree branches, but her thighs were larger. Not fat by any means, but a bit more normal sized. Powerful. Hell, they'd squeezed the head right off the shoulders of more than one vampire. Not to be messed with, this woman.

Her pants 'round her waist and up proper, cept for the bottom she'd been sitting on, she moved to wriggle herself off the counter. But he was still there, half leaned over as he had whilst helping. Her eyes met his, and her tongue ran nervously across her bottom teeth, needing him to back up so she could stand up proper an' needing help with her only slightly covered arse. Pushing herself up with her arms hadn't been an option. She hesitated, a whole mess of nervous, confused. Same as he was. So he jerked to attention, standing straight up and swivelling so she could land on her feet without him in the way. And she did it plenty smart too, using the edge of the counter to finish pulling up her pants. No more help needed from him there. And bloody hell, shouldn't be a disappointment.

He looked at the shirt in his hands to hide it when he thought of something. "Should get them to get you a button-up instead," He said of the hoodie, scrunching it in his fingers. "S' not as bad on your arms."

"It's okay," She said. "I like hoodies. It's fine. I'll be fine with it for a while." She sounded decidedly breathless. "Just help me get my arms up."

Silly bird. Never wanting to be a bloody inconvenience, so by all means, load on the pain so she didn't have to twist up anyone's knickers. But he didn't want to step out either. Didn't want to break the sanctum of this bathroom, where it was just him and her and she needed him. Needed his help. "Fine," he said gruffly, like he was relenting to her, and not to his feet, which had grown heavy with loathing at the thought of padding out of there. "Won't be pleasant," he reminded her, and she nodded, her expression serious, understanding. He placed the sweater on the counter, stepping first to her.

"Do they need to be reset?" She asked as his eyes scanned her arms. Sounded so innocent, so down-to-business, and no idea how hard and how easy it was to step this close to her. Had to pretend that he was just there out of the goodness in his heart.

"Nah. Your tussle jarred 'em a little, but nothing got rebroke in a bad way." She seemed relieved. He reached out for her shoulders first, a touch as soft and as gentle as he could make it. She trembled slightly, beneath his grasp. Whether it was 'cause of him being so near or anticipation for the pain, he didn't know. All he could was tread careful. He rotated his fingers to the underside of her upper arm instead, gently lifting up. Her lips drew in a flat line, determination and tribulation in her expression. But her arms slowly raised, stock-still straight, no bending of the elbows to introduce even more painful tremors and things sliding against each other that ought not to.

A sound burst from her throat, not the pleased near-moans from earlier, but a pained whimper, and she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep the next sound out.

"Almost there," He soothed her. "Then just slide on down the sweater like San'na down the chimney." Tried to get a laugh out of her, but could only manage the barest twinge of her lip. She was concentrating, likely more in pain then she tried to let slip. Muscles, they all worked fine and dandy. The hinges of her arms were just fine. It was the pain, the tender fractures in her bone structure giving her pause. His fingers were to her elbows now, still slick with water droplets, but drying. Some patches warm, some cold from the shower. Her eyes met his, and he was aware—how could he not be—of how close he stood to her. Could lean right in. Get a kiss off before she could even kick him away. Be like last time. He hadn't forgotten the feel of her lips under his, how soft and pliable her body felt beneath his hold, even as powerful as she was. How she'd melted into him like butter, and he'd been enough of a git to think that maybe he deserved it, deserved her. Was time to move on from Buffy and all that whatnot.

Then she'd called him that same day, and bollixed it all up like she had a habit of doing. Maybe it was duty, and not love that had Spike return to the blonde. Obedience, not love that had him want to work on things with Buffy again, accept her offer of a relationship. He nearly snorted at that. And that'd how it been, hadn't it? Buffy declaring she'd give it a second chance, like it was a contract for him to sign. Wasn't how love was supposed to work. But he'd accepted it as fate. Accepted it as thinking he wasn't worth any better.

Maybe that was wrong. Maybe one day he'd actually figure out that love could be shared, that it didn't have to hurt so bloody much. That it could be gentle.

Maybe. His head was right buggered up. Maybe he'd start spouting nonsense to rival Dru. Had enough examples of what bug-shagging crazy looked like. Maybe that's what his confusion would turn him into. 'Cause this was tearing him down the middle and he didn't know what to do. Didn't know what it was like to _be_ unaffected, not just act the part. To not twinge with pain each time Jade did, like he felt the same.

God, he nearly lost her. Being trapped in those cages. Nothing to do all day but dream of the bloody end. Things that would never be and the hell waiting for them. And when she'd ordered him to turn tail and run so that she could handle Kern herself, a fear, a horror had instilled itself into his belly, so much he didn't think he could even pretend to feel apathy, not towards her. Couldn't pretend that being near her made him feel _something_ , something more than being bloody pals. Couldn't pretend that leaving her behind had ripped into his non-beating heart. And 'course, he had to hold it together in front of Harmony and Lily. They'd had a job to do. And he, good little soldier, got it done. Didn't keep him from thinking about his Slaypire, and how his knees had near knocked together with relief when she'd shown up. In one piece.

And here she was now, the both of them were. Made it out. Had to be for a reason. Not that he believed in the Almighty any more, sod no. Not for years, not while he was a demon, and even with a soul in 'im, he didn't suddenly turn his sights back to the high above again.

Turned his sights to her instead.

And yet he still couldn't, mustn't touch. Not while this muddle was in his head. Couldn't risk hurting her.

Her arms, trembling, were lifted above her head. She didn't say a word, her eyes looking into his, then closing, waiting for it to be over. He'd oblige her. Reached for her hoodie, bunched it up much in the same way that he had the sweatpants. Arranged it around one wrist, then the other. Little hole lining up with her head. Then he pulled on equal sides, gentle, delicate movements. She didn't whimper this time, the shirt sliding easily down, covering the majority of her marble white skin. He tried not to feel the disappointment. Job was done. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and gently began sliding them back down, to hang straight. She took a step to steady herself, nearly swinging herself closer to him.

Eyes opened then, and a shaky but present smile appeared on her lips. "Glad that's over with," She said in a voice that was mostly steady, but with a tiny quiver in it, no doubt due to the agony. "Hopefully we won't have to do that again for a while. How long is it socially acceptable to wear the same clothes?"

"Hmm," He said, trying to sound thoughtful. Hoping something witty would jump to his lips like it often did. He took a step back, then another. Better this way. Giving her space, that's what he was doing. Running away from the uncertainty in his chest. "Bit longer than the average, mortal bloke, seeing as we don't stink 's much as they do." She looked relieved, cupping her chin into the collar of her hood.

"Thanks for your help." She said then, swaying slightly on her feet as they had descended into silence again.

"Not all bad, now was it?" He passed it off as nonchalance, a slight jab at her reluctance, but he was holding his unneeded breath. She nodded, and he relaxed.

"Better than with 'Silicone' Slayer," she teased, a light smile twitching at the edge of her lips. Then she was heading towards the door, and he felt a strange ache in his chest. Bloody hell, was over now. He should stop her. Lengthen this moment where it was just the two of them and no danger to speak of. Where it was quiet and relaxed. Trust and mutual affection between them. Shouldn't let her walk out of here thinking she was the one standing on the low ground.

Shouldn't let her go, and he overtook her. Surprise flickered in those eyes as he stepped between her and the door. Here was his chance. Sod the consequences.

But he couldn't.

Couldn't sod the consequences and hang the fallout. Couldn't run it moment by moment with her. She deserved better. Something level, firm. Not an impulsive snog. He'd done that before, now hadn't he? And broken the bird's spirits right after, rushing to Buffy's waiting arms. He hadn't realised it then, or maybe he'd chosen to be ignorant, but he sure as bloody hell couldn't make the same mistake. Couldn't do it to Buffy either, going behind the chit's back. Wasn't bloody right. He'd make it right this time. William the Bloody would do this infatuation thing right. Not hasty or half-arsed. Step by bloody step.

So he curled his hand 'round the doorknob and opened the door for her. Earning another grateful half-smile. She was tentatively careful again, stepping out into the world where there was more than just the two of them, more complications, more bloody mess.

The world where he was so utterly lost.


	87. Chapter 86

**86**

"Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" Vi asked them, eyes flickering between the two vampires. "It's really not necessary. You can stay, heal up. I know you probably want to leave this city behind and I can't blame you, but if you want a few more days, recuperate and all that," The redhead gestured at Jade's arms.

Yeah, they weren't quite working yet. It'd been a full night, and onto the second day since they'd come to the Slayer house. Despite the copious amounts of blood she'd been downing, the amount of moving she'd been able to do with her arms were restricted and painful. So she'd attempted little, and Spike let her get away with even less practice, but she was healing. And Vi was right about the near proximity to the Vampire Headquarters, but she had felt safe here.

Still, it was time to move on. Spike was antsy that they deliver the information to Buffy and deliver it in person. Jade tried not to let her spite show, the little tingling of good ol' green monster envy that stiffened in her gut at Spike being adamant that they deliver sooner than later.

"I can send my girls ahead with the information you have. We've phoned them about the Potentials, anyway." Vi pointed out.

"Thanks ever so, but 's our mission. We oughta be the ones to bear the news to the chief, y'know?" Spike looked antsy, shifting his weight from one foot too the other. He'd been increasingly anxious about something over the last day. Missing his Buffy, likely. Now that he was off death's door, he wanted to see her. There was that bitterness again.

It was Jade's own fault. She knew what would come of letting him help her in the shower—not even just the shower, but in anything. Accepting his gentleness and kindness was just digging her deeper, and she had only herself to blame. She shouldn't be surprised that Spike was in a rush to return to Buffy, presenting the fruits of their successful mission. She shouldn't begrudge him for that. He would have left her alone if she had pushed it enough. She'd relented. She'd been the weak one, and she was paying the price for it.

And he wasn't avoiding her now, but he hadn't let himself be in the same room alone for long. Avoided her guest bedroom, although she should be grateful for that. If he was suddenly instigating a distance between the two of them, it was probably for the best. Heck, that's what she had done when she had first found out about him and Buffy. Putting a barrier up so it wouldn't affect her as much.

Still, it hurt. The memory of him with her was a corrupting one. The gentle way he'd rubbed his fingers through her hair, massaged her neck, lifted up her arms so pain was accompanied by tingles, just all of it. It was a mess, a tangle, a big chaotic jumble. And now _he_ decided he should back off? Seemed a too little too late kind of thing.

But he was still kind to her. That was the confusing thing. Always made sure she had blood. Always made sure he was the one to heat it up for her, open it for her, and make sure she could hold it in her knees without it falling to the floor. That was his contribution. His confusing, gentleness.

She wondered if she was going crazy, and decided the answer was most certainly yes. She wanted him near her, found it considerably difficult when he was near her, wanted him to stop being so kind and understanding with her, and it felt like fire when he pointedly stayed away.

Crazy. Beyond measure.

"You can use one of our cars, then, of course." Vi relented. She hadn't been putting up much of a fight either way. She had an opinion, but she wasn't going to force the issue. Jade was just beginning to like the more gentle-hearted Slayer. Reminded her a bit of Willow. Vi had authority and responsibility now, but there were still times it was shown how much of a goof the redhead still was.

"Much 'preciated." Spike answered back, as if that hadn't been a given all along. "Soon as little flame ball sets, we'll be out of your hair."

"You were never in my hair, Spike," Vi assured him, with that cordial, old friends tone. "You guys have done us a great service," This time her eyes were sure to land on Jade as well. That was another thing Jade liked about Vi. That she didn't ignore her or fear her, just accepted her for what she was. A vampire with a precarious soul in her safe house. "Really." Vi added, with an encouraging smile. There was none of the judgement Jade was worried about receiving, the dark 'what are you doing with Buffy's man' piercing glances she had been expecting. And maybe from Jordie, Shelley, who said little to nothing to Jade, going about their day with little time spent on the vampire.

"And you'll…" Jade needed a better word than 'deal'. "Uh, you're okay with Lily, you don't need us to take her home?" The Slayer had been doing better over the last day, although Jade had heard her the last night, waking up from a dream with whimpers and muted cries. Jade's super-hearing had picked it up, but as far as she knew, the rest of the Slayers hadn't. Jade'd gone to Lily, then. Sat with her for a while and talked about other things. Lily had two little dogs that she loved almost as much as she did her sister, but Jade could tell Lily was still hesitant in returning. Partially didn't think her family would accept her, and another part of her was intrigued by the Slayer operation here. Her Slayer tutelage had been put to a stop by her parents' will, but Lily could choose some things for herself.

So she'd been upset when she heard that Spike and Jade were ready to get on the road, and they'd offered to take her to her home, but she'd refused, for now. She'd taken to her Slayer-sister, Maya, and Vi as well. She needed more time to think and more time to heal.

"Oh, yeah. She's a gem." Vi smiled. "We'll take good care of her, don't worry. We'll be getting her on the phone tonight, letting her folks know that she's okay. What she wants to do from there, we'll help."

"The vampires might go after you," Jade felt apt to add, a warning. But Vi nodded, unbothered.

"We've known about that possibility from the beginning," Vi reminded her, in Squad-leader voice. "But we've a job to do here, and we don't run. Besides, I think you've kinda rattled the hornet's nest, in the way that you've crushed pieces of it. They won't be in any hurry to do anything reckless. In the meantime, I'll keep having my little news interviews. Harmony's been quiet over the last day, hasn't she?"

Jade smiled in response. "She did seem a little frazzled in her walk back to the building." Less like a walk, more like a drunken stumble, but the blonde had managed to get into shadows before she made a nice bonfire. They all had. But the fall hadn't been kind to her, and unless she could cover those bruises and cuts with loads of make-up, Harmony was probably going to pull an Empress Elisabeth and not go out into public view until she was sure not a hair was out of place.

"Take care o' yourself." Spike said, voice low and not entirely missing in affection towards the redheaded Slayer. "And the lit'l Water Lily too. Both of you birds, named after flowers. Best friends already."

"I'm named after the color. And a great aunt Viola." Vi informed him with an amused expression that was trying to pass for insulted.

"Whatever," Spike muttered.

* * *

"You can call me." Jade said, pointing her chin at her new phone, tucked into her pocket and given to her by courtesy of the Slayers. "Anytime. If you need anything."

Lily nodded as stoically as she could. Her hair, finally untangled, had been tied back, revealing a lovely, pale heart-shaped face. Her dark, intense eyes stood out in contrast, and her full lips were touched with a gloss given to her by Maya. She was pretty, and more importantly, feeling like it, now. She'd nearly given up, nearly surrendered to the awfuls of captivity. Nearly, but hadn't. She'd kept fighting, something Jade reminded her of each time Lily's eyes flashed with a measure of guilt or blurted out a 'sorry'.

But she _was_ healing, now that she was here and away from that nightmare. The night before they had had Chinese food. It was partially to celebrate an successful mission and escape, as well as to commemorate the New Year, which had come just the day before, while they were still imprisoned. Jade hadn't realised, hadn't realised they'd passed Christmas in their time at the Vampire's headquarters, and the New Year as well. 2007.

She hoped it'd bring better luck. To her, and to Lily. Hoped the younger girl could use the new start.

"Thank you for everything." Lily replied, trying to keep her bottom lip from trembling. "And I really am—"

"Don't say sorry," Jade interrupted. "Nothing to apologize for. Really. Thank you for not giving up on me. You're incredible. Your family will be so happy to have you back."

Lily nodded, mutely, an uncertain look in her eyes, so Jade continued.

"And if you want to stay with the Slayers instead, trust me. You'll make a difference. The good kind. There's nothing selfish about either choice. Nothing final about it either. Your family deserves to see you again, but you don't need to stop with the slaying if you don't want to. It is our calling, after all."

"Thank you," Lily whispered again, quietly and nearly under her breath. "And good luck to you. With everything. With Spike."

"Oh," Jade winced. "We're not a… thing, or anything." Wow. Super sophisticated and believable answer. So casual and grown up. Jade resisted the urge to make a face at her own lack of eloquence. She needed acting lessons or something. A natural buffer to hide her thoughts. At least she didn't have to worry about her blush giving her away anymore.

"Maybe not now," Lily insisted, her voice wavering less, seemingly more certain when she was talking about something other than her life choices—which admittedly, was something Jade could relate to. Conversation redirection was her favorite go-to. "B-but you guys are really close. I don't think I'm ready now…" Her hands trembled, a dazed look in her eyes as she relived some horrific memory Jade couldn't shield her from. "But I really hope I might get something like that someday." Her mouth lifted into such a tentative smile that Jade didn't have the heart to further set the record straight. Lily was misled to think Jade and Spike had the relationship she desired—there was no relationship there at all. But the partner bit of it, the trust she held for Spike, the loyalty and faith, and the knowledge that _that_ was something he could and did reciprocate, she did wish that for Lily. Someone kind, and giving, and supportive of the diffident Slayer.

"Of course," Jade said, with a lack of anything else to say. She didn't know how well she could steer clear of the clichéd things, 'you have your whole life ahead of you', and 'it'll get easier.' Instead, she settled with, "I'll see you again."

Lily looked up at her, eyes sparkling instead of flat, and she rushed the Slaypire, wrapping her arms very quickly and carefully around Jade in a loose, quick embrace. Then she was stepping back, and didn't say a thing at all, but the little, grateful smile on Lily's face said all it needed to.

* * *

She looked back at the house as Spike closed her door for her and walked around to the driver's seat. Vi was standing out there, in the cold, with a thin sweater and her arms crossed in front of her chest like some sort of protector. The sun had just gone down, and it'd be about a six hour drive straight back to San Francisco. Six hours, and they'd be back with the other Slayers, but mostly, they'd be back to Buffy. Jade was trying to push the thought from her head, but of course it lingered there, sticking around with a substantial adhesive.

Spike slammed his own door as he scooted into the small vehicle, a 2004 Oldsmobile Alero that Jade thought was just a sweet little car, but Spike had muttered that it was too 'Grandma like' for him. She was still looking out at Vi when she felt a flurry of movement, and she jerked her head to see Spike leaning towards her, his face near hers. She stiffened, like a frozen rabbit, but he was reaching past her, his fingers hooking around the seatbelt instead. Of course, she hadn't managed it. Hadn't really given it a thought either, but Spike was pulling it around her and securing it snugly, his hand brushing her stomach.

"Are you on the safety inspection board?" Jade teased, when she could find her voice. Spike had retreated, back to the driver's side now, as he started up the car.

Spike scowled. "Should be using one, jus' to be safe." There was a sulky tilt to his voice to be the responsible sounding one.

Jade's lip twitched in amusement. "In case we get into a car accident? You're right. There could be bruises."

"Oi, you don't need any more injuries, alright? What're you on my case for?"

Jade shrugged her shoulders with a laugh. It was just amusing. Spike played the bad boy card, it was funny when he played tight to the rules, making sure she was all belted up like she was his kid sister or something. The thought soured her mood immediately, and she didn't say anymore. He passed one curious look at her as they drove away. Thankfully, he turned on the radio to drown out any would-be silence. After a while, he asked her if she needed anything to eat, from the jars they'd gotten from Vi and the Slayers rattling in the back. She shook her head. There was a look on his face like he thought she was just being sullen, so she broke the quiet with a few obligatory words.

"Nice not having to eat like I might never eat again. And actually just feeling full, instead of, you know, gorged." It was smalltalk, an empty comment that Spike didn't say anything in return to. He wasn't the only one who'd sunk into a sullen attitude, his eyes straight ahead and a thinking, brooding expression on his face. Not that she'd mention that to him. Mention him and brooding, and he took it personal. Still had a thing against Angel, which again, was on the not-to-mention list. Seems like a lot more things were on it lately.

How did he go from being so kind and gentle to her in the shower to being so distant now?

She blew at the glass, but there wasn't even a fog from her side, although there was a bite of cold air from her left, where Spike had opened the window, lighting a cigarette. He'd attacked the cigarettes with the same voracious he had the blood, asking the Slayers to buy some for him. Asking, well, more like demanding, looking petulant while Vi teased him with the possibility of refusing. Not like Spike couldn't walk out to the store himself, but they were a little low on the cash.

But he had his smokes now, and he sucked on one vehemently, letting the fresh scent mix with the cold night's air. January air. And not a speck of snow to be found, that was California for you. Still felt weird to her, not seeing snow everywhere, but she'd dealt with it since she'd moved to Haven.

"Want one?" His voice sounded husky, low. He'd taken his cigarette and held it out to her.

"Just a drag," Jade said, weak, though it wasn't the smoke she craved. She leaned towards him, his knuckle lightly grazing her chin as she took in one inhale, muttering a thank you and feeling deprived when he brought his hand back to his lips. She tried to not let her eyes follow the movement of his arm and settle on those lips, but they did anyway.

They'd been driving nearly two hours now. Sunnydale, the Hellmouth town, before it was destroyed, wasn't too far away now. And Haven was just a little further after that, about the same distance from Los Angeles, albeit along a slightly different fork. Jade thought about Haven. She missed being there, when it had just been her and Spike. Seeing Eddie, Lyth. Talking with Lorne, although the green-skinned demon was very mum about past war stories. And the kids at the orphanage, that Jade swore she didn't have an attachment towards, but that was probably a lie that people were starting to catch on about.

There was no sign telling people that Haven was coming up, just a winding road. So the only people who could find it were the ones who wanted to, no accident passerbyers there. Another aspect of its protection for those who lived there. But Jade knew the road, knew it well, from several angles. Saw it now, an unnamed exit. Couldn't even wave it as they passed by.

Except, at the last second, and probably a bit after, the narrowly missing a divider after, Spike veered the car suddenly, gears squealing and tires burning on the pavement as he shifted them off the road, towards Haven's exit. Jade let out a squeak, more surprised than pained, as her shoulder smacked against the car's door. Spike had been driving fast before, but now the motor roared with a new invigorated life, tearing down the road.

"Spike—what—" Jade burst out, wincing at her rattled shoulder as she righted herself. There were no other cars down this road, so he wasn't slowing down or taking cautions. She was beginning to be glad he'd insisted on the seatbelt with taking turns like that. But this wasn't the way to San Francisco, not anymore. She didn't think he'd talked about going to Haven for something, and there was a fierce, dogged look on his face, and she didn't know why. "We paying a visit to Lorne?" She tried to keep her tone normal, like she was merely curious, and yeah, it was a winter night, they did have plenty of time to still reach San Francisco, so it wasn't a time of the essence thing.

"No," Spike's fingers were curled tightly over the wheel. More cold air whipped at her skin as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket and placed it to his lips, flicking his thumb irritably at the lighter until it caught flame.

She waited to see if he was going to follow up that sentence with anything else, but he didn't seem willing to divulge anything else, looking straight ahead, his gaze steely. Jade lifted her knee and pressed the radio's power button, turning it off. Spike didn't seem to notice.

"Spike, what—"

"Can you stay with your demon friend?" He blurted, suddenly. He looked at her now, askance, and she realised his expression wasn't as stern as she'd thought from the side. He looked almost panicky, anxious. The confusion that had threatened to well up in her stomach with a side of heartache suddenly stilled in the face of concern.

"Lyth? I…" She frowned. "I guess. Spike, what's wrong?"

His fingers trembled as he tapped his cigarette against the wheel. "I just need…" He swore under his breath. "Bloody hell. I need to get this information an' things to Bu—to the Slayerettes. An' I need you to stay put. In Haven."

It felt like a hole had risen up in her stomach and had taken everything with it, everything leaking out, leaving her hollow. Numb, she couldn't look at him as her mind buzzed useless white noise, trying to form words.

"Just fo' a day." Spike was saying. "Jade?" He said again, when she didn't answer. "Just for a day. Two, tops. Then I'll come get you."

The emptiness fell way to confusion, although she still felt her fingers tremble. He was getting rid of her? He wasn't getting rid of her? "Why?" She asked. "Why do you need me to stay in Haven? Did I do some—I mean, I was part of this too," Jade asked, feeling dismayed. Was it something about the mission that she'd done wrong?

"Not saying you weren't," Spike reassured her immediately. "S'not what this is about." He let out an exasperated sigh, his cigarette holding hand going up to rub his mess of un-gelled, platinum blonde curls.

"Then what?" Jade asked. She was a rollercoaster of emotions, confusion, guilt, anxiety and distress bringing up the forefront.

"Jus' need, I jus' need…" Spike wouldn't take his eyes off the road again now. They were going faster now, jarring her with each bump on the road. She winced at the violent shaking of her arms, tucking her fingers into her seatbelt to keep them more steady. "I jus' need to talk wit' Buffy, alright? An' when I do, you shouldn't be 'round."

"Oh." Sucked into the abyss again. Like one of those Black holes in Star Trek, pulling everything in. "Because she might…" she inhaled a breath she didn't need. The taste of cigarette smoke and acrid air, and Spike, always Spike, swirling around on her tongue. "Might be mad at me for how I feel about you?" She was ducking around the Big Three Words again. Hadn't so much as said them, really, all but. But she couldn't. Couldn't say them, not when they made her feel stupid, like she was a big burden because of it. Big stupid Jade couldn't control her feelings, and now they had to keep her at the kid's table.

"What? No," Spike said, startled, looking at her like she was being silly. "Not you. Buff ain't going to beat you off with a stick cuz of that. She'd have spanked 'alf of her Slayers, 'f that were the case." He saw her face fall at the allusion that what she felt for him was nothing more than a crush, and he tapped his fingers on his steering wheel again, frantically. "S'not 'bout how _you_ feel."

Damn her eyes burning with tears. She really did feel like a child. "Then what?" She forced out, her voice anything but steady. "Or why?"

"Jus' gotta…" His fingers were tapping helplessly on the wheel again. The cigarette was a stub, and he flicked it out the window. "I gotta tell her somethin', an' it's just best that you're not there. Be less than sodding ideal." He was just running around in circles without telling her the _why_ of it. Just dipping her further into the confusion, the being lost.

" _Why_?" Jade demanded, finally with some ardor in her voice. "Spike, just explain. Please."

"I gotta tell her that me 'n her aren't workin' out." Spike uttered suddenly, his jaw clenched. "Gotta tell her that there's someone else, that, that I gotta think. That I need time to bloody think." He looked at her then, his eyes filled with anxiety, uncertainty. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Jade felt like the bottom half of her had just slipped and fell to the floor, through the cracks in it and slipping down to the road between their wheels. Someone. The someone was her?

"What… what are you trying to say?" She felt eerily calm, like she was the psychiatrist or psychologist or whatever, that she was unaffected, that she was trying to help the patient and this had nothing to do with her whatsoever. Even if it had everything to do with her.

"I don't know. I don't… bloody know." He wasn't looking at her. They hit another bump, and her chest pressed into the restraints, wincing. He glanced at her then, a wild look in his eyes. "S'not one sided." He said. "Don't know what it is, but it's not…"

Jade shook her head, words gone, thoughts gone, her lips parted but no sound coming out. "Wha—"

"Can you jus' do this fo' me?" He was pleading now. Lights were showing up in increasing quantity, courtesy of the town they were nearing. Courtesy of Haven. "Jus' stay here and wait?"

"Slow down here," Jade said instead. "Spike—slow down. Deputy doesn't like speeding in his town."

"Right," Spike said, a hollow, still-panicky tone that didn't sound like him. He was in distress, and far from levelheaded about the whole thing. She could barely accept his words, barely understand them as intelligible. He felt something for her. Something to make him consider breaking it off Buffy, although if Jade thought it was purely because of her, she knew she'd be wrong. There was more to it than that, a lot more. And Spike was in a near hysteria, thinking of it all. Trying to imagine ending it with his one true… or maybe not one true anything, but someone he loved. And even if it wasn't entirely her fault, she was a factor. And she didn't know whether to try to lean in and comfort him or stay away. Staying away, she decided. He didn't need any more confusion.

But he _was_ confused, and it astonished her. She didn't think, _never_ even suspected that he was struggling with the same feelings for her as she had been for him. It didn't seem to compute in reality. It was tucked away into one of those fantasies she could indulge in in her head but never really experienced. But it was real now, and it was choking, and Spike was torn. And she'd help him, she'd always help him. Whether she'd get him or not.

"Yes." She said then. "Yes, I'll stay here if that's what you need. Help me get my phone, and I'll call Lyth."

* * *

They walked up the stairs in silence. Spike couldn't look at her, lost in his own head. Like he couldn't believe he'd admitted to it, that he wanted to break up with Buffy. Breaking up was such a banal term to describe the ending of their relationship. Born on thorns, hell, sculpted on thorns, and not at all all healthy, the thought of him cutting it off completely when it just started up again must have been terrifying. So she didn't say anything, just let him stew. If he needed her, he could reach out, and she'd be there, but he kept his hands firmly in his pockets.

Lyth had sounded curious, a blasé attitude about the whole thing, but with a voice where she'd made no mistake that she would be expecting Jade to spill 'all the deets', Lyth said she'd pop back in from the party she was at to let them in. Jade had her invitation already, but breaking open the locked door was probably not the best way to stumble in for a favor. Spike knocked on the door for her, hitting a little heavier than was probably best for the thin apartment door, but Jade didn't say anything. They waited a few long seconds, and Spike was lifting his hand to slap the door again—likely even harder this time, when the door opened.

Revealing a woman that was definitely not someone Jade recognized. Shorter, a pink colored pixie cut, creamy skin and _several_ piercings, she stared back at the two of them. "What?" The woman said. "I was at a party." Her voice was low, not at all familiar either, but the aghast look on her face was one that Jade recognized.

"Oh. Lyth." Jade said with sudden clarity.

"Yes of course, moron, it's—oh." The woman's face crumpled into understanding, and she promptly removed one of the rings on her finger, a brief, distorted reality and then there was Lyth standing there, her cutting dark eyes, full lips and sleek cheekbones. Jade had nearly forgotten about those, the appearance-changing rings Lyth loved so much, always buying the newest edition, newest look from the resident witch in town, Madame Syeira, a friend of the Mok'Tagar demon. As much as the Mok'Tagar demon _had_ friends. Mostly, she gave the witch money and got all sorts of trinkets. Jade could never be bothered. The thought of trying on another face, body— _height—_ didn't appeal to her. Yeah, she'd like to be prettier, gorgeous as natural Lyth was, but she wanted to be there herself, not because of a ring. Of course, Lyth just liked the fun of it, always stating how bored she was to be limited to this tiny little town, it was only fun if she got to change it up a little.

"Changes your voice now. Cool," Jade heard herself saying, trying to sound interested. The surest way to make Lyth upset about anything was not to pay enough attention to her, and Jade _was_ asking for a favor, to stay here over for a day. Hopefully not any longer than that. But she couldn't think like that. Spike said a day, and he meant it. Had to. And yes, she was staying with Lyth because it was one of the few places she'd allowed herself to be invited into. As a Mok'tagar Demon, Lyth was very at ease with teleporting, portals, and she had her own strength. Jade wasn't as worried about Lyth's wellbeing if anything were to happen to Jade's soul—God forbid. She might have been more comfortable at Eddie's place, but that would require an invitation, and she had a feeling that packing her off to stay at Eddie's place wouldn't have pleased the platinum blonde vampire.

Of course, he was going off to see his girlfriend, but she wouldn't, couldn't be bitter. Couldn't be uncertain, couldn't waffle. She just had to be patient. That was all that was required of her, and she could do that. For Spike.

"Yeah," Lyth grinned. "Can even spell accents into it now. One makes me sound Australian." She raised her head, looking elated, then her expression narrowed somewhat as she took in the two of them.

"What's with your weird arms?" Lyth asked, frowning at the way they hung down. "They look like dead logs." That was one way to put it.

"A long story. They're a little. Broken." Jade said, Lyth's eyebrow arching with surprise, then she glanced at Spike.

"You didn't say _he_ needed to crash," Lyth pointed out, with a grudging look at the white-haired vampire. Taking him in. Despite Lyth's apparent loathing for the vampire, she scanned him from head to toe, in no apparent rush.

"He's not. Just me." Please God, don't let her voice waver. Lyth's eyes floated back at her with extreme interest. There was no way she was spending the night and not having to spill the details to the demon. "Can we just have a minute?" Spike was shuffling his feet, antsy. Eager to leave.

No, she told herself. Eager to get it over with. There was a difference.

Lyth shrugged. Jade and Spike were still out in the hall anyway. "Yeah, whatever." Lyth said, trying to cover any hurt at being left out with a bored tone. "I kinda popped out of the party quick anyway. Should have more of a spectacular exit. I'll be back in a bit, then," She said in a voice that made it obvious she was doing huge favors, still. Then, twiddling the appearance-changing ring in her fingers, the demon promptly shut the door in their face, leaving them out in the hallway.

"Polite bint," Spike remarked dryly.

"And she's probably eavesdropping, so no insults." There was mutual distaste between Lyth and Spike, starting from Poker games that Jade felt like they happened years ago. And Jade would _not_ put it past the demon to eavesdrop, so she didn't need Spike pissing her off before Jade had to stay with her. But now, it didn't matter. All that mattered was Spike. His attempt at humor had been replaced by a sullen look again, the panic rising back in his eyes.

"Spike?" Jade said. The platinum blonde vampire still had yet to say anything. "Are you alright?"

"Yeh. Jus', jus' don't know." Spike's free hand ran agitatedly through his hair, the rest holding a bag of jars filled with blood for her. "You understand?"

"Yes. No. I don't like you going off on your own. Not because—" Jade made a face. "Not in a controlling way. Just you seem… I'm sorry. This is my fault. You wouldn't have to be going through this if I—"

"No," Spike interrupted. "Not 'bout you. Yeh, it is. But isn't. I just gotta do this. I'm not saying I 'spect anything in return. Not trying to say anything. I just gotta. Gotta talk to Buffy first." His hand outstretched, as if to cup her face, but he stopped it halfway through, letting it hold in the air. "Ain't right, otherwise. Not going to go behind her back."

"Of course." Jade reassured him. The thought that he'd even thought about it, going behind Buffy's back with _her_ , with Jade, that was something that she didn't think she could believe yet. Still seemed a fantasy, or a joke. And Spike hadn't really admitted to it either.

He had started pacing after he curled his hand back to his chest, but one curt turn and he was facing her again. His eyes bore through her, twin, blazing pools of blue. "You'll wait?" He asked. He'd so rarely sounded this uncertain, this vulnerable, but now there was a desperate edge to his voice. "Til I come back?"

Like she had a choice. Like she could just choose to go off anywhere, like her world didn't revolve around Spike, like it hadn't for a while. But still, he asked her like it was a question, like she could say no.

"Yeah. I'll be right here. It'll be okay." She still wanted to comfort him, still make it better somehow.

"Jus' need to figure this out," He said again, like it was his calming mantra. "When I come back…"

"Don't need to make promises," Jade interrupted. _Especially if you can't keep them._ "I'll be here."

His hand trembled as he outstretched it once more, leaving it hanging in air. Once again, he didn't reach out to make contact with her, and she couldn't exactly bring up her hand to meet his. He lifted the bag of blood then, setting it carefully beside her. "Righty then," He said, clearing his throat. "'ll see you soon, Super girl."

"See you soon, Spike." Then he was gone, a twirl of black clothes and unkempt white-blonde curls, he turned on his heel and was gone. He looked back once, right before he would have descended on the stairs, paused. Looking back over his shoulder, at her. A lost, turbulent storm in his blue eyes. Then there was heavy stomping, and he was out of sight. Jade stood there. She wasn't sure how long. Until the stomping faded, and then stopped completely.

Leaving her alone in Haven. It was worse each time. She stared, running his words again in her head. Trying to assure herself she didn't miss anything. That she didn't try to make things that hadn't happened.

She knocked distractedly on Lyth's door, but there was no answer. A sigh in her throat, Jade rattled the knob. The demon had re-locked it, probably out of habit. Or she didn't want Jade looking through her stuff. Maybe she had stolen goods she knew the Slaypire would be bothered with. Either way, it left Jade in the hallway, alone and waiting. Alone with her oh-so-muddled head.

 _S'not one sided. I don't know what it is, but it's not…_

 _Gotta tell her that there's someone else._

 _Ain't right, otherwise._

Maybe she was just picking out the parts that helped her the most. Selective memory and all that. Just enough on the other end to convince her Spike didn't feel that way about her. She knocked Lyth's door again, with her knee. _Come on, open up_. _I need a distraction_ , Jade begged silently.

Nothing. Jade leaned her head against the door in exasperation. She thought she heard something, then, in Lyth's hotel, something getting knocked to the floor, so she rapped on the door again. It was probably the cats. Jade had hoped Lyth wouldn't get rid of them. Alright, she'd tried, but they had a habit of coming back. She wondered which one it was. Distracted her for a good minute, then her thoughts were on Spike again.

Then there were sounds. Footsteps, quick ones, rushing back up the stairs.

And there was Spike. Thoughts of the cat, Lyth, all forgotten. There was Spike, his chest rising up and down like he needed air, his hair brushed back haphazardly, somehow a mess in the time he'd been gone. "I had to come back." He said. His voice seemed strange. Choked up, maybe, he was in such sorts. She was so startled, her eyes centered on his face as he staggered towards her. "Don't need to see Buffy," He said then. A strange thrill, a chill over her skin as she stared stupidly at him.

"Just you." Another step. Almost wary, careful, he approached her steadily. And she couldn't think, her mind was so a-muddled. Expecting him to turn tail and run. He stood in front of her now. The caution hadn't left his eyes. "It's you. I need you."

"But you—Buffy." Her mind wouldn't work.

"You, Jade. I promise it's you. Please, bloody just let me, just let me," he raised his hands up to her again. Near her face. He seemed desperate, wanting. She could barely compute it. Spike. Spike's here. _Spike just told me he loves me_.. She couldn't believe it. It wasn't to be believed. "I need you." He said again, and did she manage a nod?

"Spike," She murmured. He was so close. Eyes boring into hers. Dull, in the dim light. She didn't resist as he fingers reached out for her face. Felt warm. Maybe she was the cold one, standing out here in the hall. For minutes? One hand stroked her chin. She didn't move. Most of her couldn't move anyway, it wasn't like she could lift her arms. No, she just waited, stock-still and vulnerable. If she moved, the spell would break, wouldn't it? His other hand trailed down the side of her neck, her throat, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Please," He said again, his fingers shifting around the thick hood of her sweater. Resting on her collarbone.

"I love you."

She froze. Those words couldn't have come from his mouth. It wasn't possible. But he was looking at her, his eyes boring into hers, looking so hopeful, still desperate. She felt like time froze, didn't move. Maybe she was sleeping. Maybe she was making it all up. It was like the gravity of the world had shifted and twisted upside down and she didn't know which way to stand anymore. She couldn't focus, couldn't think, move or react. Hadn't paid attention to the fingers still on her collarbone, hadn't noticed they moved. There was a snap, quiet, nearly imperceptible, the slightest of pressure around her neck where his fingers were. But she heard it. She was confused, frowning, trying to look around. And then Spike took a step back, his expression a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. "I'm sorry," Spike said. He was holding something in his hand. Something glowing.

Her soul.

"No." Jade said.

"I'm sorry, Jade." Spike fiddled with one of the rings on his fingers, a new one, one he didn't usually have on. One of the things she should have noticed.

The ring fell to the floor. Lyth stood before her. Triumphant, but contrite. Trembling with her victory, with the disbelief that it had actually worked.

Holding Jade's soul.

"No," Jade said.

Should have known. She hadn't been paying attention. Hadn't noticed all the things out of place, so wrapped up she was in her own head. All cocooned in her own dismay and confusion. She should have noticed. Should have been paying attention. Should never had let her guard down.

Should.

She felt it like a tornado. Sucking it all away. Carving the insides out. She felt the tug as her soul was pulled away from where it was belonged, a whole splitting in two. Jade felt a hatred like she'd never known.

 _Finally_ , it said.

"No," Jade begged.

"I'm sorry," Lyth said. She looked it.

Then with a poof, there was nothing but air where Lyth had been. She was gone.

And then there was darkness.

 **End book one.**

 **AN:** _Please don't hate me! I'm sorry. Blame Joss Whedon for his angst'verse, I'm sorry! I promise I won't leave you waiting very long. I've already started on Book two, have several chapters written up already, and Wednesday I'll post the first chapter. Can follow me as author if you like, or just wait, promise it will be out on Wednesday, so you can follow it then if that's what you like. Or just check back to see if there's new chapters every once in a while like I do. Thank you thank you thank you for all the tremendous support and I'm sorry if it feels like I just stabbed you in the back. Will make it up to you you all I promise (i hope), everything is very planned out, I promise, not just thrown in willy nilly. There will eventually be the Jade-Spike you all have waited so patiently for. But detours, detours! At least we had a cute shower scene before hand, yeah yeah? Softens blow? No? :( Sorry. Anyway, I've had this planned out for a reallly really long time, and I tried to build up to it so it doesn't_ seem _like it was completely out of nowhere, but I also wanted it to be a complete surprise and be out of nowhere, so did I do it? Hope I surprised without confusing, if anyone needs anything cleared up just send me a message :)._

 _And thank you for helping me achieve two humongous milestones. I have never, ever completed a novel before. Like even a tiny little 70k one. Never ever. I've written lots, with the help of RPs, but nothing completed and nothing on my own. I never thought I could write this much, and in a pretty short-ish amount of time, taking out the breaks. And I've also never been able to_ come back _to something I've stopped. I just get discouraged or disinterested and I just can't pick it up again. But I have, and it's seriously because of you guys. Comments recent and in the past, who let me know that they're invested and interested in this story like I am, all the readers who don't say anything but check in on every chapter, you too, thank you so much for helping me get this far. I really, really wouldn't have done it without you. And I'm so determined to keep going. I have plots I want to get to so bad, and_ **I** _also really want to get to Spike and Jade, I like them a lot, I love them together, I've always had ze biggest crush on Spike, and thought he deserved a good love, one that wasn't demeaning or destructive, so that's why I write this! Although definitely still painful, and loooong. I think if this was a show, this would be like the second season finale, maybe? I don't know, I think in shows sometimes because of Buffy, so I think in arcs and episodic formulas sometimes. Anyway, thank you again, always, for reading. Thank you for helping me get this far. And I will see you again on the next novel, which I have almost quite decided on the name, between like three options, on Wednesday! Please don't hate me, thanks for your support! Hoping one day I make it worth it!_


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